


Embers

by EvrM0re91



Series: A Flame to Unite [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Call Backs, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Coming Into Ones Own, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Custom Robin, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fates Foreshadowing, Foreshadowing, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Murder/Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Nightmares, Novelization, OC's based off of seperate playthroughs, Open Secret Relationship, Original Character Death(s), Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Timeskip, Weddings, Worldbuilding, kids from the future, potential trigger warnings, somewhat divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 70,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvrM0re91/pseuds/EvrM0re91
Summary: Fate has a way of playing things out. For Chrom it couldn't have gotten any stranger than the blood-soaked Plegian girl with little memory beyond her name. Her tactical brilliance makes her a valued asset to the Shepherds, especially as war against the Mad King seems all but inevitable. A bigger threat may be lurking in the shadows as the bond between the blessed prince and cursed tactician may be the only thing to save the future.
Relationships: Callum | Kellam/Soiree | Sully, Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Denis | Donnel/Sallya | Tharja, Emerina | Emmeryn/Philein | Phila, Frederick/Sumia (Fire Emblem), Gregor/Velvet | Panne, Guire | Gaius/Liz | Lissa, Henry/Original Female Character(s), Licht | Ricken/Maribelle, Lon'qu/Olivia (Fire Emblem), Miriel/Wyck | Vaike, Nono | Nowi/Riviera | Libra, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Serge | Cherche/Viaur | Virion, Sort | Stahl/Tiamo | Cordelia
Series: A Flame to Unite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023703
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as SammieWrites

**Embers  
Prologue**

###### 

_“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually — from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint — it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly... timey-wimey... Stuff.”_  
— The Tenth Doctor, Doctor Who, “Blink”

###### 

Her head was beginning to swim, her strength was quickly diminishing. Everything it took just to get her, the battles and plannings, they were all beginning to prove to be a bit too much for her. She was worn out, both physically and mentally. As much as she would have liked to think she had grown out of that sort of thing by now; she just wanted to go home and sink into her mattress.

Rendered to her hands and knees, she knew she needed to get onto her feet. She was making herself a sitting duck like this. But her body was weighing her down, her muscles ached and screamed. She was yearning for a rest so much she could barely stand it.

A sudden battle cry caught her attention; she looked up and her blood instantly turned cold. A man clad in blue, white, and silver, with blue hair to match, held his magnificent sword at the ready as he went in for an attack against the tall, sickly-looking man. Struggling to her feet, she opened the tome cradled in her left hand.

The man in blue sparred off against the gangly man, they mirrored each other for several moments. The gangly man's magic seemingly caught the blue man’s sword each time he tried to get a hit in.

Idiot!

Despite the man's speed in movement, all she could see was the jagged scar that traveled from his shoulder to his elbow on his right arm. The wound obtained years ago never fully healed, even after the fact. How often had it frozen up on him in the middle of a battle? She wasn’t sure if they could get through this very battle if it were to happen here.

And yet he made it all look so easy. So what did she truly know?

Well, she knew she felt safe, so safe, in the company of the blue-haired man. She trusted him, trusted him with her life. She knew him so well. And there was a time when he could say the same about her. But now?

She wasn’t so sure…

Suddenly she barely knew herself anymore; within the last half-hour, if even that, her whole world had been shaken to its core. If they made it through this battle…then what? Would anyone be able to look at her the same as they once did?

Would she have to die?

Gods, was that even a question? Of course, she would! It was the best way to end all this, lest the gangly man’s desires come to fruition. One life weighed against the masses, there was nothing to discuss.

The two men continued to clash, the man in blue would go for a strike, then the gangly man would strike back with his dark magic. The process repeated itself as orange-yellow sparks began to flicker around her free hand and a page in her tome began to burn away.

The gangly man leaped up, levitating himself just below the banisters of the temple, but still high enough to cause damage if he fell. His hands were held up in front of him, ready to throw the dark magic he gathered at the man in blue. He threw his magic downward towards the man in blue, who successfully managed to dodge the spell.

The force of the blast, however, threw her off her feet. She cradled her tome close to her chest, careful not to lose it as she tossed her free hand at the gangly man. Yellow electricity sailed through the air, but the man had already vanished before the Thoron spell could even hit him.

Repositioning herself, she used her free hand to help slide to a stop. She looked back up at the blue-haired man, just in time to see blue electricity crash into him. She shouted his name, cold dread began to swell up inside her. He’s fine, she told herself. He’s fine…

Soon, the dust began to settle enough for her to see the blue-haired man pull himself to his knees. He was bruised, with thin cuts along his exposed skin. But, thankfully, he looked relatively unharmed. He was using his sword as a support as he climbed onto his knees.

She bit her lip as soon as she saw it.

The tremor in his arm; the tell-all sign that it was beginning to freeze on him. She knew he shouldn’t have fought in this battle! She should have fought with him to sit this out! Why did she let him talk her into letting him fight?

Gods, how pathetic could she get?!

A sudden buzz of electricity caught her attention; the gangly man in the dark robes was preparing another spell. Not as large as one of his previous attacks, but still powerful. Cackling, the man threw the spell in the direction of the blue-haired man. “No!” she shouted, readying another Thoron spell.

The two spells of differing magic collided with each other. The room was momentarily filled with a bright light. When the light died down, she was offered the chance to exchange glares with the gangly man.

Everything was his fault…

Everything.

The situation they were currently in.

The deaths.

The monsters running loose.

The monster he wanted to make of her. It was his fault.

His fault. HisfaultherfaulthisfaulthIsFaUlThIsFaUlThErFaUlTh̵͖̍̓̂̐̏͐̄͐̇̄̂I̸̡̮͇̖̲̺͛̂s̸̢̡̡͔͉̼̼̣̲̤̉̎̈͑̇͌̋͝F̷͖̥̟͈͙̞͙̏̈́͐̾͗̈́̽̅̑͝ả̴̟̝̻̠̺Ú̶̺̯͎̱l̸̨͈͚̜͕̗̰̹̩̔́̽͗̓̏̒̉T̶̩͇̤̮͆̋̑́̄̓̿̚͝͝͝.

A gentle squeeze at her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. She half-turned to find the blue-haired man beside her, his sword still at his side. “You’re one of us,” the blue-haired man said, his gentle voice assuring her. Still as warm and comforting as she had always known his voice to be. “No ‘destiny’ can change that.”

She uttered his name, holding her tome close to her chest. Warmth fell over her, replacing the cold dread. A sense of home that always followed him, and by extension followed her so long as they were near. How often had he been able to reassure her when all seemed hopeless.

But he was usually right. They always found a way to come out on top, this would be no different. “Yeah…”

“Why do you insist on rejecting the inevitable?!” snapped the gangly man. “You cannot erase what has been written! You are meant to stand here! At my side!”

No…

No. He was wrong.

The blue-haired man took off first, with her following at his heels. His sword shone brilliantly in what little light there was left. The blue-haired man and the gangly man ended up repeating their previous spat. No matter how the man of blue would try to go for a strike, the gangly man would catch it with his magic.

The man held a hand out blocking an oncoming sword from her, just as she had hoped. She had taken out her blade and gone in for the attack. Pulling her tome out, she opened it and allowed it to fall to the floor, another page beginning to eat itself away. Orange-red sparks danced around her fingers as she drove the Thoron spell into the gangly man’s side. Just as the blue-haired man cut into his opposite side.

The gangly man pushed himself back by a couple of yards, safely away from the pair. Purple-black flames began to dance around his person. He dropped to his knees, sitting still for just a moment before he dropped flat onto the floor. He reached a hand out futilely.

Relieved, the blue-haired man looked back at her and smiled. Weakly, she could feel her lips pull back into a smile. Everything…everything was going to be all right now. Maybe she didn’t need to die with this man already dead. Maybe…

She took a step forward intending to take the blue-haired man’s hand. But a sudden voice echoed around them. “This isn’t over…” the raspy, ragged voice of a man thought dead croaked. The gangly man suddenly prompted himself up with one hand, then extended the opposite hand towards the pair. “DAMN YOU BOTH!”

Her body started to act before her mind could catch up. She placed her hand firmly on the blue-haired man’s chest. Putting as much strength in as she could, she shoved him out of the path of the gangly man’s spell.

Under different circumstances, she would have thought this was an impressive feat. The man of blue easily outclassed her in the weight department. But right now, she was far more concerned about keeping him alive. Between the two of them, she was the expendable one.

She was nothing.

She was just able to catch the utter fear and confusion on the blue man’s face. A moment of realization. The idiot actually feared for her.

Her vision went white as the spell threw her off her feet. She was momentarily weightless, unaware of her surroundings. Her chest soon burned upon contact with the spell. An uncomfortable tingle spread from her chest to her arms, to the tips of her fingers. A new form of pain brought her back to reality as her back hit the floor. In contrast to the burning, the back of her head and shoulders started to throb.

The blue-haired man shouted her name, prompting her to slowly crack her eyes open. Her mind was still fuzzy, her vision was blurred. She needed to blink a couple of times before it cleared. The blue-haired man sprinted to her as soon as she hit the floor. Finally, at her side, he dropped to his knees and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help her sit up.

“You all right?” he asked instantly. Unable to find her voice, she nodded. Relieved, the blue-haired man looked back at the gangly man on the floor. He must have collapsed again after casting the last spell. His body began to disintegrate into a dark haze. “That’s the end of him…thanks to you, we carry the day.”

She brought a hand to her forehead, allowing the man in blue to hold her. She was still hurting; she was exhausted and she wasn’t sure what happened now that the gangly man was dead? Did this put an end to his plans? Had she been overreacting?

Without warning, her breath caught in her throat, her head hurt from it’s deepest crevices. The pain was so intense she hardly noticed the blue-haired man guiding her onto her feet; though she wanted to sit back down. She wanted to scream at him to help her back down, but she couldn’t find her voice. “We can rest easy now,” the man said, his voice so distant and muffled to her ears, “at long last.”

Another spasm of pain pulsed through her head. She could feel the man’s hand leave her shoulders, she grabbed a hold of it, instantly wanting the support. Her chest started to heave. She wasn’t actually sure if she was breathing or not.

The man finally noticed the pain on her  
face. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Still, she couldn’t find her voice, instead opting to squeeze his hand and hope he understood what she was trying to say. “Hang on! Hang-”

She could have fainted with the sudden absence of pain. Like a candle blown out in the wind, the pain was just…gone. She couldn’t say how, or even why. She was just glad it was gone. The pure relief of it all was enough to make her want to sing.

To her confusion, the man sauntered back away from her on unsteady legs. Her heart stopped as soon as she saw the large orange-yellow electric volt penetrating his side. His hand held the volt, but he wasn’t trying to remove it. Though it likely would not have done him any good; blood was seeping around the wound, darkening his tunic.

Her chest started to heave again, watching helplessly as blood started to drip at the man’s feet. No… no, no. Not him. Not him!

How?

How?! It was just the two of them now! No one else could have… No one else…

Oh, gods, please no…

Now terrified and cold, she looked down at her right hand. Small traces of electricity danced between her fingers. Tears welling in her eyes she looked back at the man, shaking her head. “No…” she choked out, her tears spilling down her cheeks. “No… Chrom…”

Gods please, not him… not him… not by her hand…

The man took a step towards her, his free hand gently caressed her cheek, wiping the tears.

Don’t…

“This is not your-your fault…” the man rasped. Blood began to drip out of the corners of his mouth. “Promise me… you’ll escape from this place… Please… go…”

The light in his eyes died as they rolled into the back of his head. The man dropped to his knees before he collapsed onto the floor. Blood began to pool around him on the floor.

Both hands clasped over her mouth as she scampered back a step.

She stared, wide-eyed, at the man. He remained motionless as blood began to stain the white of his clothes. Hands still over her mouth, she let out a muffled sob before she dropped to her knees.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way…

It wasn’t supposed to be this way…

It wasn’t supposed to be this way!

Why…?

Why was she still alive after everything?

Lady Emmeryn, Phila, Say’ri, Nowi, Donnel, Stahl, Gaius, Miriel, her mother… Weren’t they all deserving of life? But they weren’t alive. That was the way of it, people were alive until they weren’t. Death through senseless acts of violence…

Why was this world still alive?!

A miserable land, just perfect for generations of miserable existence. How many wars did this world experience and did they ever learn their damned lesson? How many ended up dead as a result? The lands ravaged, people suffering and dying.

It was disgusting how they never learned.

And she was a fool for holding onto hope.

This world…was better off dead…

It was the rasped cackling that got her attention; a voice belonging to one she was sure was dead. Slowly, but surely, her shoulders began to shake, a smile forming behind her hands. Lowering her hands, she allowed a low chuckle to escape her lips.

They were better off dead…

T̴͓͚͚͒̅h̸̢̥̤͈̬̙̱̰͚͈̝̬͊͘Ě̷̪͠y̶͍̗̩̠͊̊͌͌̃̆̎͘͘͝͠͝ ̷̪̔W̶̧̧̛̲̹̰̑̾͋͂̕e̶̫̭̺̿́͌̀͝ͅŖ̴̡̞̘̳̺̜̌̊̔̎͐͋̇͋̅͘ë̶̢̨̪͚̖̯͍́͛͜ ̸̡̭͔̺̭̤̺̩͚̲͐̿̃͘͜B̸̺̽̐͆̍̐̑̐̔̽͘͠͝ẽ̶̡̥̗̪̭̯̖͉̏̊̂̓̽̔͘͝T̵̼̟̻̓́̈́t̵̫͓̘̘̉Ẽ̷̘̤͕̗̥̘͎̺̺̬̜̠̾͛͛̋͊̒̽͌̈̋̋͘ͅr̶̨̘̮̘̓̈͗̾̒͑͌̎͂ ̶͖͎̥̮̹̟͋̈́̃̊̏O̸̩̤̔̑̎͑͗͐̊̄̕̕͝f̷̨̥̗͉̳̱̉̐͆̂̓̈́̏̉̕͠ͅF̴̹̻͋ ̶̥̒̍̒͋͂͌̊͊d̵̮͈̤̄̄̽̽́̎͌̉̄̌̚Ḙ̸̡͔͚̗͛̑̍̽̌͂a̴̡̨̢̜̗͈̠̯͙͓͈̩͌͒͗D̶̘͍͎̺͈͍͎̭̤̄̽͋͛͐̅̽̒͜ͅ!̶̩͎̝̟̱͐

Euphoria started to bubble up within her the more she accepted the truth. This world was headed towards ruin, so why not help it along?

Her head tilt back, laughing alongside the voice. Liberated from her previous concerns she remained somewhat oblivious to the new pain on her temples as a pair of jagged horns began to grow out of her skull.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One  
The Verge of History**

Prince Chrom felt like an unwanted stranger as he helped the caravan build a makeshift funeral pyre out of their destroyed wagon. He, Lissa, and Frederick had all been on the receiving ends of uneasy glances throughout the whole endeavor. And they were most definitely out of place as soon as the caravan’s elder lead them in prayer as the body, wrapped in a makeshift shroud, was laid atop the pyre and set ablaze. Chrom would have liked to join in on their prayer out of respect, it was something Emmeryn would have done, but the prayer was in Plegian. He had little to no grasp on the language or it’s culture. No, he was most certainly out of place amongst a caravan of Plegian performers.

Frederick had asked him whether or not they should trust a caravan full of Plegian’s with the recent goings-on. But if it wasn’t for the caravan the village of Elrond may be in worse condition now. They had earned his trust.

The events of last night were…strange, to say the least. The brigands who did make it into Elrond simply invaded homes, used threats of violence to get the homeowners to cooperate, then move onto the next home. Nothing was stolen, a few were injured, and only one person was confirmed dead. It was like they were looking for something specifically.

His younger sister, Lissa, cried for the deceased, though they knew next to nothing about her. Even the caravan knew little about her. She was just traveling with them for a few days, working at their camp in exchange for food and shelter until they came to the next town. 

But her body was found so close to where Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick were staying for the night. If they had acted sooner, then maybe they could have saved the woman. It was a thought that nagged at Chrom since Rahul found the body.

Rahul, the caravan elder, dressed in a worn out robe of a sage, more or less spoke for the caravan. Especially with Chrom and the others present. Some members were still eyeing Chrom and Lissa like they half-expected him to just turn his blade on them. The children were especially frightened, cowering behind their mother’s skirts.

They must have been born well after the fact, but no doubt they heard the stories of Calhoun’s genocidal campaign. Added to Ylisse’s current issues with Plegia, Chrom imagined most Plegian children would be terrified of him. “I think we should go now,” Chrom kept his voice in a hushed tone. “Emm will worry if we keep her waiting.”

_‘And I know when we’re not wanted,’_ was what he wanted to add. Public speaking may not have been his strongest suit, but he knew when he needed to keep some thoughts to himself. “Quite right, Milord,” Frederick agreed.

Sniffling, Lissa used her sleeve to dry her eyes; she nodded silently. Before they could head back to Elrond, Chrom opened one of the saddlebags on Frederick’s mare and pulled out a small purse. “Please, accept this.” Chrom offered the purse to Rahul. “Thirty-seven suns should buy you a new wagon. Or…whatever you need.”

Rahul took the purse into his withered hands. “Thank you for your kindness, my lord. And please, do not worry about her passing. She likely died happy with the present outcome.”

Chrom forced a smile, though Rahul’s words did not sit with him. Though the brigands last night did not kill anyone, someone still died anyway. That bothered him, so much he struggled to find the words.

They left without much fanfare, and Chrom imagined it was to the relief of many of the caravan. He could still smell smoke as they traveled straight through Elrond, just smoke and burning wood. If there was any flesh, Chrom did not notice, nor did he want to know what burning flesh smelt like.

Despite the somber start of the day, it was still quite calm outside; the warmth of spring melted away the remains of winter. It made for decent walking conditions with the warm wind and fresh scent of grass.

The serenity of the moment was abruptly ruined by Lissa’s ranting. “Well, I’m _sorry_! I’m so, _so_ sorry if I don’t understand why we even bothered to bring a horse along if we don’t even ride her!”

Frederick brought up the rear of their small group, leading his mare, Cecil, by the reins. He usually rode into battle atop Cecil, but for missions like this, she essentially served as their pack mule. Of course, if anyone called Cecil a mule when Frederick was in earshot there would be hell to pay from both man and horse.

“A little walking builds character, milady,” Frederick responded lightheartedly.

Lissa stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth and blew a raspberry. Hard to believe she turned sixteen just a few short weeks ago, she had the tendencies of a nine-year-old at times. “If I wanted to build character, I would have stayed in Ylisstol and trained with Sully and Kellam,” she murmured.

“That’s actually not such a bad idea,” Chrom pointed out with a raised brow.

“You knew it would be like this when you became a Shepherd, milady,” said Frederick.

“I know.” Lissa heaved a sigh. “I also knew it would give you one more excuse to worry about, Sir Allow-Me-to-Clear-Every-Tiny-Little-Pebble-and-Stick-So-You-Don’t-Trip.”

“Milady!”

A brief snort escaped Chrom’s lips; he tried to hide his grin by covering his mouth with the back of his hand. After a moment, he lowered his hand and allowed his eyes to wander off to the field just off the dirt path. The wind billowed through the grass, making the field look like waves were crashing into one another. His gaze followed the ‘waves,’ until Chrom spotted something truly unexpected; a human figure lying motionless on the ground.

Gasping sharply, Chrom tore off the path, straight for the figure, without really thinking what his next move was. He heard Lissa call his name, then perhaps gasp herself. As fast as she could Lissa got a bottle of vulnerary and a water skin out of Cecil’s satchel and raced after her brother. Frederick called after them both, but his cries fell upon deaf ears.

As soon as Chrom was at the figure's side he dropped to one knee to lower his face beside theirs. A steady stream of warm breath met his skin; relieved, Chrom leaned back as Lissa dropped to her knees. She dropped the waterskin and vulnerary at her side and started to inspect the person. “Still alive,” Chrom stood back up.

Gingerly, Lissa pulled back the flap of their coat and nearly leaped back at the sheer amount of blood on their person. “Not for a lack of trying!”

She was a young woman, about eighteen or nineteen, maybe twenty if they were being generous. Her skin was a handsome shade of brown; white hair laid around her head and over one shoulder. She lied on her side with her hands close to her face; dried blood coated her fingers and palms. Bloodstains took up the right side of her person, on her loose tunic, on her kilt, spots on her neck and in her hair. There was even a trail of dried blood on her upper lip starting from her nose. Were it not for the blood, she could have simply been sleeping.

“Plegian robes,” Frederick said, approaching the siblings. “Be on your guard, this could easily be a trap set by last night stragglers.”

Once Chrom was able to look past the blood on her person, he could see the style of her clothing. A loose tunic and slacks; a style that would have come in handy in the deserts of Plegia; she would have fit right in with the caravan. But it was her coat that was particularly alarming. Thick and black with yellow-gold accents lining the sleeves and edges. But it was the three purple eyes that ran down the center of the sleeves that identified her as one of the Grimleal.

“Honestly!” Lissa huffed. Standing up she placed her hands on her waist, her crinoline made it difficult for her to place them directly on her hips. “Do you really think anyone would be _this_ obvious?”

“Milady,” Frederick said in a stage whisper, “you see that coat-”

“Yes, I see it. But that’s all it is. It’s not hurting anyone.”

“And the mark on her hand? Does that get a pass from you?”

Chrom’s brow arched in confusion. He looked back down at the woman; had Frederick not said anything, he would have likely missed it altogether. Her hands were so caked with blood it was easy to miss. But now that Chrom could see it, he couldn’t tear his eyes from it.

There it was, on the back of her right hand. It was a light purple mark, strangely ethereal. It was not a sigil one would normally see in Ylisse. How many knew what its significance was, Chrom did not know. But he did know what it was; the Mark of Grima. The sigil of the Grimleal and mark of the Fell Dragon.

Chrom knew the mark was usually worn on the clothes of the Grimleal’s clergy. He also knew it was not unheard of for devout members to follow this practice. But he had never heard of anyone baring the mark on their skin. A part of a ritual amongst the devout, perhaps? If so it was not one Chrom had ever heard of.

“What’s your point?” Lissa asked, standing firm with her resolve.

“Milady,” Frederick stressed, “it’s blindingly obvious that she is one of the Grimleal.”

“ _And_? We cannot hold it against someone for the basic right to choose their religion. If we did, we’d be no better than Father.”

Frederick’s brow twitched in a rare moment of wavering. Chrom wasn’t sure if it was simply because Lissa was speaking ill of the dead in general, or because she was speaking ill of their late Exalt. Neither option made Frederick particularly comfortable. “Even when they come from the country that’s been terrorizing our borders?” Frederick challenged. “Who’s to say she hasn’t already? Look at her, milady, I see no injury.”

“Really?” Chrom asked without really thinking. But he quickly came to see that Frederick may have been right. Despite the bloodstains, her clothes were in fine condition, not tears or cuts. So it was likely it was only the blood around her nose that was hers.

“For all we know she could have been trying to save someone,” argued Lissa. “Besides, at this point, our hypothetical ambushers could have attacked us already. Yet they haven’t.” She proceeded to cup both hands over her mouth and shouted, “OKAY, WE TOOK THE BAIT! IF YOU’RE GOING TO ATTACK US YOU BETTER DO IT NOW! _C’MON, DON’T KEEP US WAITI-_ ”

Chrom pinched the bridge of his nose while Frederick clapped a hand over Lissa’s mouth in an attempt to silence her. She squirmed away from him, and darted to Chrom’s side, as though he had any more power to stop Frederick. At this rate, it was going to be the two of them who got them into trouble more than this woman.

“Hold on now.” Chrom raised a hand to silence the two; he held his gaze upon Lissa. “Now, I’m just as willing to hear this woman out, but I do agree that we shouldn’t just throw caution to the wind.” He turned his gaze to Frederick. “And what if Lissa’s right, Frederick? For all we know, someone was in trouble, and this woman was trying to find help for them. Didn’t we just meet a group who tried to do the same thing?”

“You ignore the fact that no one in the caravan was covered in blood,” Frederick pointed out.

“Chrom…” Lissa held her gaze on the woman, then looked back up at her brother. “We have to do _something_.”

“What do you propose we do?”

“Uh… I don’t know…”

“Mm…”

The siblings turned their attention back to the woman; slowly, she opened her eyes to reveal a set of red irises. She blinked a couple of times, sat up, then shook her head to remove any dreariness. “I see you're awake now,” said Chrom.

“Hey there,” Lissa greeted the woman with a kind, warm smile.

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know,” Chrom said, hoping to put the woman at ease with a joke. He extended his hand to her. “Give me your hand.”

Hesitantly, the woman slid her right hand, the very hand with the mark, into Chrom’s. Her hand fit easily into his, like holding a sword with a strong handle. Effortlessly, he helped the woman onto her feet. She swayed slightly, still somewhat dazed. “Easy,” Chrom said gently. He placed his free hand on her shoulder to help her steady. “You all right?”

Chrom smiled slightly, recognizing that the woman was staring at him right in the face. She blinked once as though realization dawned on her, and backed away a couple of paces. Lissa let out a gasp and bent down for the waterskin. She removed the cork and held it out to the woman. “Here.”

Red eyes wide and almost childlike, the woman took the waterskin into both hands and brought the rim to her mouth. Water spilled out over the rim, down the sides of her mouth, under her chin down her neck, partially cleaning off the blood. She lowered the waterskin, cradling it in the palm of one hand while the other held the neck. “Better?” asked Chrom.

“Yes…” said the woman. Her voice was pleasant, soft, smooth, and clear. “Thank you, Chrom…”

“So you know of me then.”

The woman’s brow furrowed while she thought it over. Her lips pursed together as her eyes narrowed. As the seconds ticked by she brought a fist to her mouth, her brow deepening. “N… no…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry… I don’t know why I linked that name to you… It just… Came to me…?”

“I see…” Chrom said thoughtfully. He supposed it wasn’t impossible, but it did raise suspicion. Even he could name Valm’s current emperor, after all. “Might I ask for your name, then?”

“Y-Yes, of course!” The woman lowered her bloodied hand and hid both with her long sleeves. “I-I’m… uh… I’m…”

She fell silent once again, her eyes widened, her brow crinkled again. The woman let out a breath of air before she suddenly hugged herself; her jaw fell open slightly. She was desperately trying to find something, _anything_. But there simply wasn’t anything for her to grasp. “You don’t know your name?” Chrom asked, furrowing his brow.

The woman released a slight squeak, she tried to hide in her high collar. ‘What’s your name,’ was the one question anyone should have been able to answer. But for whatever reason, she simply couldn’t. The woman looked so lost and helpless at that moment, Chrom’s sympathies went out to her. “But it’s your own name!” Lissa’s eyes widened as she spoke. “Everyone has one, right?”

There was a twitch in the woman’s cheeks, her eyes looked from left to right, right to left, never simply just stopping on something. Was she about to start crying? Chrom didn’t know how to approach a crying woman. “Wh-Where am I exactly?” she asked. “Nothing feels familiar.”

“Oh! It’s probably amnesia!” Lissa said in a staged whisper. “Maybe she hit her head.”

“Or, it’s a load of pegasus crap,” Frederick announced. He held a hard glare at the woman. “You mean to tell me this woman remembers milord’s name, but not her own?”

“I know how this looks…” The woman swayed from left to right while she hugged herself with one arm. “But I promise, I’m not lying.”

“Forgive me, ma’am, if I find your words ring hollow. Your whole situation, and the way you present yourself, reeks of suspicion.”

Lissa gasped, “Frederick!”

Without hesitation, Frederick turned his gaze towards Lissa. “Milady, please take a step back and think about all of this.” He gestured to the woman. “We find an unknown, blood-stained woman in Plegian garb, with the Grimleal’s emblem on her hand. She claims to know milord’s name, but not her own? I’m afraid we cannot simply ignore this.”

“And if it’s true Frederick?” Chrom countered. “We cannot leave her alone and confused. What kind of Shepherds would we be otherwise?”

Frederick glanced back at the woman for a moment. She was biting the inside of her cheek, her brow stuck in it’s furrowed state. If this woman was an actress she played the part of the fool spectacularly well. “She could be from the caravan,” suggested Lissa.

“Now that, I highly doubt,” said Chrom. “They didn’t mention any other missing member.”

“E-Excuse me…”

Both Chrom and Lissa turned their attention back at the woman. She must have started to realize how she looked as she kept her hands hidden and hugged her coat close to her in an attempt to hide the blood. “We’ll sort this out when we get to Southtown,” Chrom decided. “It’s not that far from here.”

The woman’s eyes snapped open in a moment of panic. “Wait!” She recoiled as soon as she realized how loud she was. “Don’t I have a say in all this?”

“Peace, friend,” Chrom said with a brief chuckle, “I promise we’ll hear all you have to say back in town.”

###### 

To say she was frightened was an understatement. To say she was confused was equally an understatement. What would she do if she could not remember herself? It would have been downright foolish to expect these strangers to care for her. And that was assuming they did not have anything horrid in mind.

She tried to calm herself by saying that the young man with the shaggy blue hair and the blonde girl had done nothing but speak to her kindly. Likewise, she tried desperately to push the notion that it could be an act out of her thoughts. If she gave the idea any attention she may end up frozen with fright.

Observing the trio for a mere five seconds, she could tell that the three must have come from some noble house. The man she identified as Chrom wore a truly odd one-piece suit with a white, somewhat tattered, cape and a shining pauldron. She wasn’t sure what was the strangest thing about his garb, the fact that it was a one-piece or the fact that it didn’t have a right sleeve despite having a left. There was a mark on his exposed right shoulder. A birthmark… or a tattoo? Even it’s shape was odd, if she had to describe it, the words she would choose was a teardrop inside of a trident. Not accurate at the very least, but it was all she had.

The blonde had on a warm yellow clerical dress, complete with the crinoline. While her hair was done up in a pair of pigtails that curled at the ends. She had on a white lacy headdress, kept down by a vine-like diadem that circled around the pinch of her pigtails.

The knight had on a set of bulky blue and silver armor, but he held himself as though he could run miles in that thing without breaking a sweat. His brown hair was styled as neatly as he could get it with its slight curl at the end, and one lock that wouldn’t stay flat. His horse likewise wore armor, matching her rider in colors.

In one form or another, they came from money. She couldn’t, and shouldn’t, count on them to take care of her. At best, maybe she could at least hope they would point her in the right direction. At worse, the group's kindnesses really were an act and they had some horrid plans for her. The thought nagged at her no matter how many times she tried to force it out of her head.

Oh, gods what was to become of her?

Stopping in her tracks, the woman took a few breaths in. “What will you do with me?” she asked, wide eyes staring at the ground. “A-Am I to be your prisoner?”

The chuckle from Chrom did nothing to ease her anxieties and caused a blush on her cheeks. “You’ll be free to go once we establish that you’re no enemy of Ylisse,” he explained.

“Ylisse?” she repeated. “Is that where we are?”

“Yes. This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler is the Exalt Emmeryn.” Chrom’s brow arched curiously. “Is none of this familiar?”

The woman shook her head, a lock of hair falling over one shoulder as a result. She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes no longer so wide, but she was staring intently at the ground. Chrom decided that the woman’s whole experience had to be overwhelming. He could not begin to imagine what was going through the woman’s head at that very moment. For all any of them knew, she was doing all she could to avoid breaking down right then and there.

“I suppose proper introductions are in order,” said Chrom. “My name is Chrom – but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa.”

“I am _not_ delicate!” Without warning, Lissa proceeded to pound her brother on the arm with her fist. Chrom flinched slightly before Lissa shoved him aside. “Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick at times, you’ll discover that pretty quick. The perpetually paranoid one is Frederick the Wary.”

“A title I shall wear with pride,” Frederick said with a clenched jaw. This sort of teasing was clearly nothing new to him. “Gods forbid _one_ of us keeps an appropriate level of caution.” He turned to face the woman with a calmer expression, at least in comparison to the judgmental glares he gave her earlier. “I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise.”

The woman nodded rapidly. “I understand, sir,” she said quickly, “I know how my situation looks.” She paused, her brow furrowed together; she blinked. “Anali…”

“Huh?” questioned Chrom.

“My name…” the woman said slowly. A smile formed on her face, threatening to split it at any moment. “My name… It’s Anali!” Breathily she shifted a lock of hair behind her ear. “So strange… it just came to me…”

“Anali…” Chrom repeated, gripping his chin in thought. There was something pleasant about it, almost mystical. That said, it certainly was not a name commonplace in Ylisse. “Sounds foreign.”

“ _Oh_!” gasped Lissa. “Maybe you’re from Valm!”

Chrom couldn’t help but raise a brow at his sister. For the life of him, he couldn’t tell if Lissa legitimately believed it or not.

“Milord!” Frederick exclaimed abruptly.

In unison, Chrom, Lissa, and Anali turned in the direction of Southtown. A tall pillar of black smoke billowed out from the direction of the town. The scent of burnt wood was carried by the wind with the cries of the village. “Damn it!” Chrom cursed. “Brigands, no doubt. Frederick, Lissa, quick!”

“What about her?” Frederick asked gesturing to Anali.

“Unless she’s on fire, she can wait!”

“Aptly put, milord.”

Lissa hurried to Frederick’s mare and pulled out her staff from the saddlebag. Frederick mounted the horse before he pulled the blonde girl up behind him. The mare tore off into a gallop with Chrom already ahead of them.

“B-But…” Anali said wearily. She held her hand out in a futile attempt to stop them, but they were already gone.

###### 

The town was in shambles; homes and shops were either on fire or torn to bits. Civilians tried to protect themselves by locking their doors. Some were successful, others were not. The brigands pillaged anyone they could; a few of Southtown’s men and women had already taken up arms in retaliation with varying degrees of success.

A woman knelt down, her pitchfork was forgotten as soon as her husband hit the ground. She held him close as he bled out from the wound on his shoulder and abdomen. The fool tried to fight back against one of the bandits, but he was quick and brutally struck her husband down. She cradled him close to her, unsure if she should be praising him for his bravery or condemning him for sheer stupidity. She yelled out when someone grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her dying husband out of her arms. The woman tried to struggle out of the man’s grip but he had her easily outclassed.

Eventually, the man held her down in one arm, his other hand held her head, daring her to try and move less she wanted a swift end. Without warning, blood splattered across the woman’s face. She stood, stunned, afraid to look at her would-be captor. The bandit’s grip on her lessened, he fell over, almost taking her with him under his weight. She managed to move out of the body’s path; she took a chance and half-turned to find Chrom just as he slid the Falchion into its sheath. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes!” The woman tried to wipe blood and tears from her eyes. “Thank you, milord.”

Lissa knelt beside the woman’s husband, she muttered something under her breath as she held her healing staff over him. She looked back up at the man’s wife. “Your husband will be fine,” she said. “Can you please spread the word that I’m caring for the wounded? And that I could use volunteer help.”

The woman nodded and went into the nearest shop, one of the few that had yet to be plundered. “I’ve got things taken care of here, Chrom,” Lissa looked up at her brother. “Be careful.”

He gave her a brief nod. "You too."

Chrom did what he could to get civilians out of their burning homes and shops. Some, namely those who lived on higher floors, tended to be trapped by burning debris. With help from the men of the house, they were able to get their loved ones out safely.

The blue-haired man guided an old woman into the arms of her son. The poor woman was stuck upstairs as the home burned away. Her young grandsons sobbed into the hem of her skirt, the whole experience must have been terrible for them, with or without the risk of their grandmother dying horribly. The woman ignored the burns to her hands and hugged her grandchildren close to her whispering comforting words into their ears.

The family slowly headed to one of the safe areas. The father carried his two boys while his wife lead the old woman by the shoulders. The heart of the town was near-disserted, save for the brigands.

Chrom’s breath was caught in his throat when he felt something suddenly barrel into him at full force. He was thrown forward a couple of meters before he and his attacker landed on the cobblestone. Chrom prompted himself up by one arm and looked over his shoulder with the full intention to retaliate against his attacker. He caught himself as soon as he saw the white hair and purple eyes on their coat sleeves.

Anali pushed herself back onto her knees and raked a hand through her bangs, pushing them out of her eyes. She was panting, sweat beaded down her brow. She held something in her arm close to her chest. It was a yellow book with gold markings on the cover. A Thunder tome?

A metallic clang caught Chrom’s attention. By Anali’s feet, an axe landed on the ground; Chrom would have been it’s intended target had Anali not acted. Immediately after Anali cradled her tome in one hand and tossed her free hand in the direction of the axe-wielding brigand. Orange-yellow runes circled her hand as the page began to burn away. Before the bandit could act, volts of electricity struck the man in the chest, hurling him to the ground.

Anali snapped her tome closed; she glanced back at Chrom. “Sorry,” she murmured, “there wasn’t any time for tact…”

"Given what could have been, I won't complain much," Chrom said, getting back up. Helping Anali to her feet he eyed the yellow book she held close to her chest. "You can use magic?"

"Apparently," said Anali. She lifted the flaps of her coat, revealing a sword and coin purse secured at her side. "Guess this thing has a few surprises in it."

Chrom grinned, tempted to correct Anali; it certainly wasn’t her cloak that had a few surprises.

He grabbed Anali by the arm and pulled her into his chest. She was about to shout in protest until Chrom held Falchion out in front of them. The advancing swordsman brought his blade down upon them but remained blocked thanks to Chrom’s quick thinking.

The sword ricocheted off Falchion. Fluidly Chrom retracted his sword and sprinted to the brigand, Anali followed close behind him, still holding her tome close to her. The blue-haired man slashed his sword against the ruffian who was promptly thrown back by Anali’s Thunder spell. “They’re not that strong,” Anali said, holding the tome close to her again. “Their armor looks fairly weak, so, really, they should go down with one good hit in the back or midsection.”

Furrowing his brow, Chrom looked at Anali as though she had grown a twin out from her stomach. “You got all that with one look?” he asked.

Sheepishly, the white-haired girl shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

Anali hugged her tome tighter and tried to hide in her collar again. She did not understand why Chrom was so intrigued by this information. It was not as though Anali did something so spectacular. Anyone could have figured it out if they paid close attention.

Chrom soon found that it was as Anali had said. The brigands were not well armed, nor did they have the strength to match Chrom, and most certainly not Frederick. What’s more, is that there were so few of them. Whether or not they had started out as such, or if the villagers succeeded in slaying a few was unknown. “These men look like they’re armatures,” Anali said, eyeing one of the fallen brigands. “If we can find their leader and take him out, the others will probably surrender or flee for their lives. But with that said, I’d be willing to bet their leader is the strongest.”

“If that’s true then we ought to find Frederick,” said Chrom. “He’s our strongest and likely our best chance.”

Finding Frederick was surprisingly easy, they just followed the trail of bodies. When they finally found Frederick he had found him hiding in the shadows of an alleyway that lead to the church courtyard. Approaching him, Chrom explained Anali’s observations to him, though the knight was a tad hesitant to take her advice straight off.

Sure enough, in the church courtyard, the bandit’s leader set up a sort of base there. Vender’s booths had been uprooted from their usual spots, creating a barricade of sorts as the brigand's leader took uphold by the church. There was evidence of the townsfolk making it this far and putting a fight. Pitchforks, shovels, and lances were thrown askew. But those who made it this far were clearly people of inexperience. Needless to say, they were struck down like tall grass.

There was a man, one whom Anali had to presume was the group's leader, who had a muscular build to him, with a large axe in his possession to boot. There were four others close to him, two bore swords, one carried an axe, and the last held a green tome. Anali motioned at herself and Chrom, then she pointed out the sword and tome wielding underlings. She gestured to Frederick, then to the axe-wielding underling and the band’s leader, silently asking him if he could handle the last two.

When both Frederick and Chrom gave Anali a sign of approval the white-haired woman tried to motion for them to hit them all at once. But her way to convey this was to have the tips of her fingers meet with the open palm of her opposite hand. This ended up looking more like a wave crashing into the shore.

Seeing the men’s confusion Anali tried a different method by mouthing, _‘All at once.’_ She pointed at Frederic, then held up five fingers. _‘Give us five seconds.’_

Taking a deep breath, Anali opened her tome, once again cradling the spine in one hand. Chrom took the lead, running out into the open, to which she followed close behind. He clashed blades with one of the brutes. The second blade-wielding man swung at Chrom, he was thrown back by Anali’s Thunder spell. She, herself, was suddenly tossed off her feet. The brigand's mage had cast his Wind spell straight at her.

A shrill whinny echoed around the area as Frederick road out into the open atop Cecil. The leader started shouting for his subordinates to counter-attack immediately. The brigand's mage prepared another spell. Gritting her teeth, Anali quickly got to her feet and held her open tome close to her. Electricity formed in her free hand. She bolted forward, driving the volt into the mage’s side. The man gasped out before he fell over, bleeding out on the cobblestone.

Chrom fought off against the swordsmen with fluid motions, let it be blocking with his blade or dodging an oncoming sword. However, with the three of them attacking him at once, it was difficult for Chrom to land a blow on either of them. Anali yanked the Wind tome out of the fallen mage’s grasp and opened it. Blue-green runes circled her hand as the spell knocked one of the ruffians off their feet, his sword fell a few yards away upon landing.

Stealing the opportunity Chrom used the confusion to stab the second swordsmen. The swordsman managed to get a hit in before he fell over dead, slashing Chrom on the brow enough to draw blood. The swordsman’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slumped over, his sword fell from his hand with a clank-clang.

Another dull thud was heard as the barbarian fell over dead, the tip of Frederick’s lance dripping with blood. “Damn you!” roared the bandleader.

Brandishing his ax he sprinted up towards Frederick, likely with the intent to kill. As though it were his second nature, Frederick repositioned his lance. His heel nudged Cecil in her ribs, signaling her to rear back. As the horse came down, Frederick drove the lance into the ruffian’s shoulder. Frederick drove it in pretty deep, almost up to his fist.

Frederick had to use both hands to get his lance out, he blanched at the amount of blood on his lance. Swiping it through the air a couple of times only succeeded in removing the substance mildly.

###### 

It took a bit of time, but they were able to successfully put out the fires across town. Several homes had minor damage, but some were not so lucky. However, the townsfolk had already gathered together to devise their restoration plans. The injured were cared for by the medical team Lissa had originally formed, but lead by the local apothecary.

When they found Lissa the first thing she noticed was the cut on Chrom’s brow. Getting a couple of cuts of cloth and a bottle of vulnerary she forced Chrom to sit down. She dabbed at the cut, causing her brother to flinch several times until the vulnerary was fully dabbed. Lissa demanded to know what happened, and when Anali even showed up. “Holy wow, Anali!” Lissa gushed when Chrom finished recounting events. “Sounds like you were really on top of things!”

“You’re certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure,” Chrom agreed. “The Shepherds could use someone like you.”

“Oh, yeah! Anali would fit in perfectly!”

“'Shepherds?'” Anali repeated, holding one arm close to her. “You tend sheep? In full armor?”

As soon as the words left her lips, Lissa slapped a hand over her mouth, snorting in the process. “Something like that,” Chrom said with a hint of mirth.

Anali started to fiddle with her fingers. She didn’t want to belittle Southtown’s tragedy, but she was concerned about what would happen to her. Chrom initially said that they would sort this out when they arrived, did that still apply? “S-So…” Anali spoke up. “What… What happens now?”

“The sun’s setting,” Frederick said, causing Anali to jump. She whipped around to find Frederick standing behind her. “We won’t be able to cover much ground before it gets dark. I suggest we stay the night at the inn and get an early start tomorrow.”

Lissa punched the air with both fists. “Yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes!”

Instantly, Anali’s hands went to the purse on her belt. Upon opening, she spilled the content onto her opposite hand. Seven stars, three moons, and a single sun. “I-I-I…”

Chrom closed Anali’s hand and gently pushed it to her chest. “Don’t worry about the cost,” he said. “We have it covered.”

“But…”

“You understand currency?” Lissa asked.

“Lissa!” scolded Chrom.

“I… think so,” said Anali. “Seventeen moons in a sun, twenty-nine stars make a moon…”

“Huh.” Lissa tilted her head to the side. “What’d ya know.”

“At least take what I have,” Anali offered.

“Keep it for yourself,” Chrom said firmly. “Trust me one extra bed won’t be that much of a dent.”

Anali bit her lower lip, another argument on her tongue. But a sudden growl from her stomach prevented anything from coming out. A blush formed on Anali’s cheeks. “We’ll ask the innkeeper if you can wash up before dinner,” Chrom assured her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much changed. Just a little grammatical editing.
> 
> I’m fairly certain that Anali is pronounced “ah-NAH-lee.” When I first found it years ago I couldn’t find a pronunciation, but I’ve been pronouncing it much the same. Today when I try to find one, it comes up “ah-NAH-lee.” It’s Sanskrit.
> 
> Frederick’s horse gets her name from the character from FE3/12. Not sure if he specifically named her after the historical Cecil or not. Actually did Cherche specifically name Minerva after the wyvern rider or did she just choose the name? Something to think about, I guess.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two  
An Unwelcome Change**

Anali held the pitcher over her head and tipped it over; hot water rolled down her instantly. Opening her eyes she found the water in the tub had turned into a faint rusty-brown color. Her hands fumbled a little to place the pitcher back down on solid floor, she parted her sopping bangs out of her eyes and blinked them clear of water. With her sight cleared, she reached for the soap bottle she had earlier placed within reach and pulled off the cork.

After checking in at the…well, inn, Lissa went straight to the church to see if they had any clothing donations in Anali’s size. She was left in the care of one of the inn workers, who lead Anali up to her room. A washtub had been brought in soon after, the water was will hot and steaming even after the workers brought it in pail by pail. The lady to lead her to the room produced a small selection of soaps for Anali to choose from, then left her to her own devices.

After lathering her hair and rinsing it once, Anali took a lock of hair between her fingers to inspect it. No blood, no stain of red or pink. That came as a relief, cleaning blood out of white fabric was difficult, she did not want to imagine how hard it was to clean blood out of white hair.

Anali released the lock and held the back of her right hand to her eye level. The purple mark was vaguely v-shaped, with three eyes on either side. It wasn’t like the mark on Chrom’s arm, she was willing to believe that his was a birthmark as easily as she was willing to believe it was a tattoo. But her mark was such an unnatural color, it _had_ to be a tattoo.

Shaking her head, Anali scooped a handful of dirty, soapy water and splashed it into her face. Palms flat against her face, she scrubbed them against her face and neck. She looked over herself once more before she decided to get out of the tub. As Anali wrapped herself in a towel, she took a moment to scrutinize herself.

She was a thin thing; it may have been why her shirt was so loose on her. Anali needed to keep an arm over her chest when she bent over in that thing, otherwise, she ended up revealing more than she was comfortable with. Not that she had a whole lot to show off in the first place, so it was a comfort thing.

Anali could feel the bones in her wrists, her shoulder, and her ribs. She was waifish. Not starved, but she was toeing the line between being ‘just thin’ and ‘unhealthily thin.’ Weight gain was something she could benefit from.

When Anali was satisfied with her towel-dried skin she dressed in her smallclothes. She dropped most of her clothes – her tunic, her kilt, and her slacks – into the washtub. As they soaked, Anali seated herself on the bed. Her fingers fiddled with the sleeve of her coat before she took the whole thing into her hands. She placed it over her shoulders and nestled in. There was a comfort found in the coat; it was big and warm like someone’s embrace. It was something she could fall asleep in so easily. Anali hugged the coat close to her as she started humming a tune. The tune came to her with little trouble, it was the words that alluded her. She didn’t finish the song before she could feel tears welling in her eyes. Her voice started warbling, grinding the song to a complete halt. Her breathing shuttered as she tried to dry her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“All right, Anali!” Lissa entered the room with an armful of clothes. “I don’t know your size, so I brought a few things in various sizes so you can- H-Hey, what’s wrong?!”

She had just rounded the bed where she spotted Anali trying to dry her eyes. “I don’t know!” Anali said pathetically with a wet face.

The blonde girl plopped the clothes on the bed, stood in front of Anali, and took the older girl’s chin into her hands. Lissa let out a few soothing _‘shh’s’_ while she dabbed at Anali’s eyes and face with her apron. “It’s going to be all right,” Lissa reassured her, “we’ll get this sorted out when we get to Ylisstol, you’ll be fine.”

Anali blinked three times as Lissa continued to dab her face dry. Was that the reason she was crying?

It was only then that Anali realized Lissa had taken off her crinoline and leathers. The lack of either made her golden yellow dress look quite frumpy.

“There we go!” Lissa released Anali’s chin with a bold smile. She gestured to the clothes beside her. “As I was saying earlier, I didn’t know your size, so I brought you stuff in a few different sizes.”

“Oh! Uh…” Anali stood up, shrugging her coat off. “Thank you!”

The majority of tunics had the same problem as Anali’s original top, even the one that fit best. The color was a horrid green, the sleeves looked ridiculously long on her, even when rolled up several times they would fall back down. Lissa helped her tie the back of the tunic to help with the excess fabric. The slacks were still kind of big on her, but that was easily solved by her belts.

When Anali was finally dressed Lissa helped her brush out the knots in her hair. She felt Lissa’s fingers run through the strands the way a mother would to her young child. It was a thought that amused Anali, as she guessed she was a few years older than Lissa. “Wow,” the younger girl breathed out, “silky soft. Yeesh. Between your volume and hair color, I’m half-tempted to scalp you for it.”

Anali’s face fell. “Uh…”

“I’m kidding. Jeez.” Lissa patted Anali on the shoulder. “C’mon, we should be ready to eat soon.”

Instinctively, Anali wrapped an arm around her stomach. She could only describe the feeling in her gut as her stomach eating itself. When was the last time she ate anything? “Okay…”

Lissa lead the way to the mess hall downstairs. The room was packed, people sitting shoulder to shoulder, the chatter across the room bled into one booming voice. “Is the inn usually this packed?” Anali murmured, feeling her pulse quicken.

“Not usually, I think,” Lissa said, scanning the room. “I heard some places are essentially having an open house tonight. After the attack, the inn’s letting people come and dine even if they’re not staying the night. The church has its doors open, people are getting together.”

Her eyes lit up when she spotted just what she was looking for. Lissa grabbed Anali by the hand and lead her down one of the ales between people and tables. Anali’s gaze traveled around, taking in the sights around her. She noticed the occasional man or woman staring back at her. Some of them carried a glare in their eye like she was something to be despised. Like an insect that needed to be squashed.

Anali’s eyes gazed down instantly, her pulse in her ears. Had she done something to offend? It wasn’t until then did Anali realize something fundamentally important; no one else in the room looked like her. While there were those with tanned skin, it was suntanned, not their natural skin tone. The lightest hair colors they had were blonde, and as far as she could tell no one had her shade of red eyes.

Was that why they were staring at her? Because she was some ‘exotic’ in their eyes?

“Well, you’re looking quite refreshed,” Chrom said, snapping Anali from her thoughts. Lissa finally released Anali’s hand, rounded the table, and took her seat beside Frederick. “I’m sure you’ll start feeling better after we get a bit of food in you.”

“Y-Yeah…” She took her seat beside Chrom.

Her eyes gazed up and she nearly fell back when she saw Frederick without his armor. It was not so much that he was without his armor, but more that he now looked like a butler than anything. All he was missing was the jacket and he had the look of a butler down to pat. Anali wasn’t sure what was odder, Frederick’s garb, or the fact that he didn’t have a single wrinkle on his person.

The room erupted into applause as the food was brought out. Workers brought each table a large platter of white meat and a pot of soup. Anali caught sight of Frederick letting out a sigh of relief just as a platter was placed in front of them.

Anali breathed in the sent, the reaction was instantaneous. She piled meat onto her plate and brought a handful of meat to her mouth. With one bite, Anali recognized it as turkey. Anali was vaguely aware of the displeased look Frederick was giving her. It wasn’t until she had swallowed three mouthfuls did she realize she wasn’t exactly using table manners. Namely, she was using her hands instead of the utensils offered to her.

Her cheeks flushed as she grabbed her knife and started to cut up her meat. She heard Frederick let out an aggravated sigh which was soon after followed by a thud. Frederick let out a brief grunt, his hands braced against the table. In the corner of her eye, Anali could see Chrom eyeing Lissa, who returned the look with her own sweet, innocent smile. “There are better ways to scold Frederick, Lissa,” Chrom said with a sigh. “We don’t know when Anali last ate, so you ought to excuse-”

“That’s not an excuse, though!” Anali gasped. “I should have-”

“Anali, _it’s fine_ ,” Lissa stressed. “We understand.”

“Most of us,” murmured Frederick.

“So, his distrust in me hasn’t changed?” Anali asked scoping tomato soup into her bowl.

“It’s hard to change Frederick’s mind once it’s set,” Chrom said with a slight list of the head.

“Hmm…” Anali took her bowl into her hands and brought the rim to her lips. She took a few chugs before she placed it back on the table. “A little perspective, Freddy. Lissa was alone with me, in my room, with my tome and sword, nothing happened. Just something to think about.”

Lissa, with her mouth full, pointed her fork at Anali, and nodded. “Perhaps,” Frederick agreed, “but that still leaves the matter of escape.”

“I could scrutinize those brigands earlier. I think I could find a way to escape through the window safely,” Anali said plainly.

“Hey, Chrom,” Lissa said upon swallowing a mouthful of meat, “before they turn this into a massive debate, has Anali given you an answer?”

Anali could feel Chrom’s gaze on her, causing her to look down at her plate with a flush on her face. She hadn’t even considered Chrom’s offer since he made it. There were other things on Anali’s mind besides herding sheep. “Not yet,” admitted Chrom. Anali could hear his hair ruffle as he scratched the back of his neck.

“S-So…” Anali murmured. She drew circles on the table with the tip of her finger. “What happens after tonight?”

“A valid question, milord,” Frederick said with a cocked brow. It was like he was silently telling Chrom to be smart about this.

“Regardless of Anali’s choice, we’ll be taking her back to Ylisstol. We’ll help her start up a life, perhaps as an apprentice of sorts.”

Anali gazed up at Chrom just as he shrugged his shoulders absently, as though he was just throwing out the idea. Set up a life for her? An apprenticeship? Could he do that? How much power did noblemen have in Ylisse?

“Thank you…” Anali murmured. She tried to hide behind her hair. This man barely knew her, yet he was being so kind, Lissa too. And Anali had no way to repay them.

Come time to turn in for the night, Anali hung up her wet clothes and stripped down to her small clothes before she cocooned herself in the covers. After the day she had, she needed a good night’s sleep.

But that was far easier said than done, as she found. She had a comfortable few minutes, a soft bed, warm covers. But then Anali realized just how quiet it was; a deathly silence. Anali tossed and turned, unable to get back to that comfortable state. She let out a dry sob into the pillow, hating the silence and hating how she just couldn’t doze off.

It must have been early morning before Anali finally fell asleep.

###### 

The rain fell like fat drops of ice. A wyvern and pegasus flew over the cavern as a small group sprinted across a rickety old bridge. A trio brought up the back, a young woman and a young man followed by a woman well into her adult years. The woman’s blond hair fell over her shoulders in gentle curls, her calming green robes flew behind her as she ran.

“Behind you!” shouted a tall young man from the bridge.

Grey-skinned creatures rose up from the ground; they stood stiff and ragged with moth-eaten garb and rusted armor. The creatures wore metallic masks, human compared to their sickly, withered appearances. Death masks perhaps?

One of the creatures, dressed in tattered Sage robes, extended its hand. A fireball shot out of its palm, aimed straight at Lissa. Hearing the crackling of fire, she dodged to the side, safely out of the oncoming blast. The young man in her trio pulled to a stop, calling for her.

The boy was about to make his way towards Lissa when she held her hand up stopping the boy in his tracks. She used her staff to help her onto her feet. Relieved, the boy continued after his unnamed female companion. The boy was half-way across the bridge when he looked over his shoulder to find Lissa. She hadn’t set foot onto the bridge, she was planning to fight these creatures alone. “Mother!” the boy shouted.

The boy’s companion stopped and turned. Her hands flew up to her mouth, terrified. The boy moved forward, his hand reached out with the intent of dragging Lissa along with him even if she was kicking and screaming. “Not another step forward, young man!” Lissa said, her voice as firm and commanding as she could get it. “They’re going to keep following no matter what, but at the very least, I can buy you all a little of time.”

“No, you can’t!” The girl choked on a sob. “They’ll…”

“I know,” Lissa said with a brief nod of the head. “And I’m okay with that.”

“Mother, this is crazy!” the boy said frantically. “We’ll go together, just like we planned! Just take my-”

Lissa cut him off. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m so sorry…” she glanced over her shoulder at him, tears in her eyes, “just don’t ever forget how much we love you.”

She whipped herself around, revealing an Archfire tome in her hand, her staff tucked under her arm. She threw her hand at each post, setting fire to the ropes keeping the bridge supported. “Now go!” Lissa shouted.

She ran forward, casting Archfire spells at the corpse creatures. She took out two before an ax-wielding creature brought its axe down, throwing Lissa to the ground. “Mother!” the boy shouted.

“Damn it, just go!” Lissa’s voice broke as she pulled herself to her knees.

Lissa wrapped her hands around her staff, using it like a mace, she pulled her arms back and swung. The décor of the staff sliced into one of the creature's neck. A new creature rose out from the ground. For some reason Lissa froze, dropping her tome and staff. The girl gasped out, “Oh gods!”

The creature whipped its sword out, moving far more fluidly than its fellows. Lissa hardly reacted when the creature drove its sword into Lissa. The young man screamed her name; he tried to run across the bridge to her as Lissa fell to her knees. His female companion shouted his name as she grabbed him by the arm. “We have to go!” she half-sobbed, tears spilling down her face. “We have to _go_!”

The girl looked up to find fire still eating away at the ropes. She saw how little time they had left; she wasn’t playing nice with the boy. She tried to forcefully pull him onto solid ground despite her friend’s struggle. But it was too late. The fire had spread from the support beams to the ropes themselves. The ropes snapped before the girl could get them on the other side.

The bridge bounced tossing the pair into the air before it fell out from underneath their feet. The force of it all caused the girl to lose her grip on the boy, much to her horror. The boy with the wide brim hat caught onto the girl’s arm pulling her onto the ground with the help of another companion. The boy, however, fell, causing the girl to scream. The young man with the hat and their friend both had their arms wrapped around the girl’s midsection, as she fought against them.

She only calmed down in a moment of confusion as a girl on a white pegasus flew down the ravine. She flew back up moments later with the boy clinging to her for dear life.

The sky above them darkened. A massive creature flew overhead, blocking out what little light there was. More corpses fell from the creature, causing some sort of reaction from the group. Behind the girl bits of dirt and rock shot out, a new creature forced its way out of the ground.

Though freshly dead, Lissa’s skin had turned the same sickly shade of gray as the other creatures and her robes were already dirtied and torn. Especially from the chest wound that ultimately took her life. Her once-friendly green eyes had turned a harsh shade of red, her head lulled from side to side as though it was difficult to keep it up. Slowly, her arms lifted into a gesture that would have been welcoming otherwise. “Come… to… Ma…ma…”

Anali woke with a start, her blood ran cold, her heart pounded in her chest so hard it should have rattled her ribs. Her hands raked through her bangs, cradling her forehead in her palms. What the hell was that?

What the actual _hell_ was that?!

###### 

Anali hugged her coat close to her as they prepared to leave the inn that morning. She kept her head down as they left Southtown; people were staring at her, she knew it. She was a scaly insect that needed to be squashed in their eyes. She stood out, some kind of ‘other.’ It was a relief to be on the road, only then did she let her guard down.

By the day’s end, Chrom was impressed with Anali. She was not physically fit; come mid-day she was worn out, struggling to keep up. While Lissa would converse with her, Anali’s replies out of breath. But still, she didn’t complain. She toughed it out as best as she could.

It was more than he could ever say for Lissa…

Night had fallen when they were several miles outside of Ylisstol, much to Lissa’s dismay. She swatted her hands at the air, her face twisted in disgust. “The bugs are out! The bugs are out!”

“It’s not that bad,” Chrom said with a sigh.

“Not that bad?” Lissa repeated. “The disgusting, noisy bugs that buzz around, crawl all over, and bite are ‘not that bad?’ Are you even my brother?!”

“Come now, Lissa. Hardship builds character.”

“Yeah, well between this, walking all day, and everything yesterday I think I’ve built up _quite enough_ character for the time being.”

A low gurgling sound rumbled from Anali’s belly. All eyes turned in her direction; the woman’s expression dropped as a blush appeared on her face. Giggling weakly, Anali placed one hand on her stomach, trying, and failing to silence it. “I suppose some hunting and gathering is in order,” Frederick teased dryly. “Now, who wants to clear the campsite?”

Lissa crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks puffed. “Come on, Lissa,” Anali said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “we can clear out the campsite together.”

“Fine…” moaned Lissa.

Frederick marked the campsite for the girls to clear out while he gathered firewood and Chrom hunted. Anali mostly followed Lissa’s instructions as she didn’t know what she was doing. In the end, it didn’t really matter much, Frederick spotted a few overlooked faults and took it upon himself to clear it out. It left an utterly clean patch of dirt for the fire pit and campsite.

Lissa had to cringe when Chrom returned with a couple of dead rabbits and squirrels, Anali would have done the same, but found it in her to just grin and bear it. Enough for her to help Chrom skin the animals while Frederick made the fire anyway. She lost track of the skins though she assumed either Chrom or Frederick had the rabbit furs stowed away somewhere. They were in pretty good condition and could have made a fine pillow or something of the like for display.

The roar of the fire and scent of cooking meat was enough to drive Anali crazy with hunger. Even after having her fill the night before she could eat a horse. In an attempt to distract herself, she brushed her hand under her nose. “Is it a wise idea to have a fire going on in the middle of the night?” she asked Chrom. “Won’t we attract bandits?”

“You say that after seeing how we handled brigand’s in Southtown?” Chrom countered with a bemused tone. “I would think it’s safe to assume we’ll be fine.”

Anali’s head bobbed from left to right in an odd nod of agreement. Another growl rumbled from her stomach, much to her embarrassment.

When Frederick deemed the meat safe for consumption Anali’s mouth was watering. She tore her teeth into the leg of a squirrel with little problem. Chrom, following Anali’s lead, tore off a bit of rabbit for himself when he looked to find Lissa. She sat herself down, her hands on her lap the same way Emmeryn would do during polite conversation. “What’s wrong, Lissa?” asked Chrom. “Dig in.”

“Think I’ll pass,” Lissa said simply. Her eyes glanced down at the meat over the fire before she looked back up at Chrom. “Couldn’t you have speared us something people normally eat? I can’t eat something so cute and soft I want to cuddle it! And _squirrel_?! _Really?!_ We don’t know where it’s been! It could have rabies or something! Isn’t that right, Anali?” No response. “Anali?”

A few grunts came from Anali who devoured her meat with vigor. She held a squirrel leg in one hand and a rabbit leg in the other alternating between the two, never letting up. Abruptly, her face started to pale, her eyes widened, she beat her fist against her chest. Chrom almost reached out for Anali when she started to take a few deep breaths in. Catching her breath, she looked up at the three with a sheepish grin.

Shoulders drooping, Lissa sighed, “I guess someone _that_ malnourished would enjoy whatever was placed in front of them…”

“Just eat it, Lissa,” Chrom said irritably, “meat is meat.”

“How could you make me eat something as cute as a bunny? Or as filthy as a squirrel?!”

“Every experience makes us stronger, milady,” Frederick chided gently. “Even those we don’t particularly enjoy.”

Lissa’s eyes narrowed. “Really? Is that why I don’t see _you_ eating anything, Frederick?”

“I had a large lunch, milady.”

“Oh?” Lissa fringed intrigue. “You mean the lunch we didn’t have?”

Sighing in defeat, Chrom waved his hand once. “Fine. Go without anything tonight. Just don’t complain about an empty stomach in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” Lissa folded her hands back in her lap. A sickening gurgle came from Anali’s belly. The young woman held her stomach, fighting the urge to throw up. “But, from where I stand, it’s not _my_ stomach you should be worrying about.”

###### 

He couldn’t put into words what had him unsettled. Around him, Lissa, Frederick, and Anali were sleeping soundly. The fire pit still had a few smoking embers, and Chrom could still smell smoke and meat. By all means, it was peaceful at the moment, but something left him unnerved.

Chrom, despite his better judgment, stood up with the intent of surveying the area. The hard part would be sneaking away from the campsite without waking Frederick. He was nothing if not diligent, a light sleeper par excellence. Which was largely why he felt remotely comfortable with no one keeping watch.

But, it wasn’t Frederick Chrom who woke up. It was Lissa. She sat up, one eye half-laden as she rubbed the other. “What’s wrong, Big Brother?” she asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but,” he glanced over his shoulder, “something is amiss…”

Lissa stood up and dusted off her skirt. “Define ‘something.’”

“I’m not sure. I was thinking about having a look around.”

“Not alone, you aren’t!” Lissa pumped both fists. “I’m coming with you.”

He let out a brief chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Lissa.”

Walking back towards the road was easy enough. Frederick had not stirred, and there was little sign of any other travelers nearby. It was a clear night, perhaps a blessing they chose to camp out for the night. But it did little to help Chrom’s unease.

As they walked, Lissa eventually hugged herself and stuck close by him. “Hey, Chrom…” she said tentatively, “is it… kind of quite to you?”

Chrom’s breath hitched. How long had it been since he heard the sounds of nature and life in the woods? “What on earth could-”

The earth started to shake violently. Instinctively Chrom brought a leg back, mimicking the defensive stance of his swordplay. In contrast, Lissa fell to her knees and planted her hands on the ground to keep herself steady.

Chrom turned his gaze all over the place, taking a quick observation of the area. He could see trees topple over as though an unseen giant were knocking them down without effort. They weren’t safe here. “Lissa,” Chrom placed his hands on Lissa’s back and shoulder, “run.”

“Huh?”

“I mean it! Go!” He guided Lissa back onto her feet, gently pushing her forward.

Obediently, Lissa took off running with Chrom at her heels, just in time to miss the fissure forming where they stood. The fissure grew, creating a new cliff where the land was once flat. Chrom stole a glance over his shoulder to find a wave of molten magma spurting up from the ground. “Lissa, no matter what happens do not look behind you!” Chrom ordered. She may have nodded, it was difficult to tell while they were both running.

The magma rained down around them, the size of melons. Trees and greenery were set ablaze before long. Diverging from the path, Chrom shouted for Lissa to follow him. He leaped down a small fissure, his arms held out catching Lissa by the arms when she jumped down after him.

Around them, molten rock rained down upon the forest, the fires growing around them. Chrom soon cursed himself for leaving the campsite. What had become of Frederick and Anali?

“Chrom,” Lissa placed a hand on his arm. “What is that?!”

He half-turned to find Lissa pointing at the sky. The fire gave off an orange glow, mimicking early dawn. But that wasn’t what Lissa was referring to. A light appeared, large and brighter than the stars trapped in the sky. The light grew, the stars going out, like the light was sucking them into its being. In a flash, golden yellow runes formed around the light, the characters were unfamiliar to Chrom. The light in the center of the circle began to crystallize, growing about half as long as the circle. Like any old lid on a trunk, the crystal barrier opened, revealing an ethereal blue center.

Slowly the gate ejected several beings that landed in a heap before Chrom and Lissa. Chrom counted seven thuds; the fall, by all means, should have harmed them, but one by one, they stood up. Stiff and rigid, but unharmed. Upon closer inspection, Chrom could see their sickly skin, varying from greys to black. There was a sudden stench in the air that mixed with the burning sent of wood.

They wore the Ylissean garb of Fighter’s, Mercenary’s, Archer’s, and Fighters. Their facial features were hidden behind darkened metal death masks. “Lissa,” Chrom removed Falchion from its sheath at his waist, “you’d better stand back.”

He missed the nod Lissa gave as she took a couple of steps back. The creatures, Chrom wasn’t sure what to call them, prowled forward. One of the Fighter’s opened its mouth, emitting a black haze. It lifted one arm, revealing a dirtied axe momentarily before it tore forward. With it’s running start, it leaped into the air, it’s axe drawn back. Fluidly, Chrom readied his sword, slicing it into its chest before it could make a landing.

The creature, however, still stood, when Chrom knew the attack should have done something. He performed the maneuver countless times, the creature should have started bleeding if nothing else. He heard a sickening snap and half turned to find the Fighter had turned his head around back at Chrom. Completely, unnaturally around.

The Fighter twirled itself around, swinging its axe towards him. Chrom brought Falchion in front of him, blocking the axe successfully. The Fighter tried to force Falchion out of its path, causing Chrom to struggle against it. He maneuvered Falchion, pushing the axe safely away from him. The creature stumbled back, landing face-first on the ground. Stealing the opportunity, Chrom leaped forward and drove the tip of Falchion into the creature's back.

It froze momentarily before it started to disintegrate into a purple-black haze. Chrom took the moment to breathe, ignoring the sweat forming on his brow. When he felt he could relax, he would worry about how the creature left behind no body.

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he heard a scream. A familiar sound that usually came with a rather comical moment, but this was not one of them. Shouting Lissa’s name, Chrom turned to find one of the Fighter’s stalking towards her. Lissa, weaponless, slowly backed up until she came to a moss ridden bolder. She held her arms up in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself. With her back pressed against the rock, Lissa sunk down, not quite sitting, but she wasn’t standing straight.

As the Fighter raised its axe, Chrom pulled Falchion out of the ground and moved to sprint towards Lissa and hope he could get there in time. Unknown to the group below, a new figure emerged from the ethereal gate. With the grace of a Pegasus Knight, the figure glided down to the ground, landing with equal grace. Chrom, in his singular focus made out a flash of blue dotted with white.

The Fighter was about to bring it’s axe upon Lissa when the blue-clad figure stood between Lissa and the Fighter, his sword held behind his head, successfully blocking the axe. Lissa, eye’s squeezed shut, hesitantly peeled one eye open to find a young man shielding her from the odd fighter. He struggled against the power of the Fighter; he glanced over his shoulder at a dumbfounded Chrom, “Help!”

Chrom snapped out of his revelry, the time for questions would come later. He readjusted his grip on Falchion and sprinted towards the Fighter. His battle cry was just enough to distract the Fighter and allow the young man to maneuver himself around and reposition his sword. Together, they sliced into the Fighter’s midsection. Like it’s fallen fellow, the creature froze for several moments before it dropped its arms and its head, then disintegrated.

The only thing heard was Lissa’s frightened breathing that she tried to calm and the crackling fires. The boy slid his sword into its sheath as Chrom studied his person. His blue hair was cut short with a gold tiara atop the crown of his head. He was dressed primarily in blue, save for the instances of white, and the red on the inside of his capelet. He must have been around Lissa’s age, fifteen or sixteen, maybe even fourteen; scrawny, and never having shaved his chin a day in his life. From his nose up his face was hidden behind a blue butterfly mask outlined by gold paint. “Quite an entrance there,” said Chrom. “What’s your name?”

###### 

Anali woke up with a start as soon as she felt the ground rumble something fierce beneath her. The shrill cries from Cecil would have been the second thing to wake her. Frederick was already on his feet, trying to calm the beast down. “Cecil, easy sweetheart, easy!”

Anali stood up, her eyes darted around. There was no sign of either Chrom or Lissa. Biting her lip, she could feel her blood run ice cold. Frederick, upon successfully calming Cecil down, pulled himself onto her saddle and took the reins into his hands. “They couldn’t have gotten far,” he said, more to himself than to Anali. The horse took a couple of steps forward then stopped in front of Anali. “Get on.”

Immediately, Anali planted a fist in front of her mouth, her hands trembling. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of getting on that horse terrified her. They were powerful creatures, so perhaps that was why she was more than a little intimidated by this one mare. The armor Cecil wore did nothing to make her seem welcoming and endearing. “Y-You go on ahead,” Anali said weakly, “I’ll catch up…”

Frederick’s brow furrowed. “Not in all of _this_ , you won’t.” Without warning, he grabbed Anali by the back of the coat and pulled her onto the mare behind him. “Loathe as I am to admit it, we’re better off sticking together.”

Cecil took off into a full gallop, the abruptness caused Anali to wrap her arms around Frederick’s solar plexus without a care of what he would think. Her heart pounded in her ears, a cold sweat started beading on her brow, her teeth rattled as they traveled. She was apprehensive; there was a ferocious earthquake, she was on horseback, and Chrom and Lissa were missing.

In short, Anali was terrified.

The horse suddenly skirted to a stop as a wave of molten magma rose into the air; balls of fire rained down upon the forest. Tree leaves and bristles caught fire, spreading almost instantaneously. Frederick urged his horse to take a left, the mare barreled through the forest until they came to a sudden cliff resulting from a fissure. Anali’s mouth started to water. She looked from the ledge to Frederick’s face and back. _‘Gods, please don’t let him be thinking what I think he is…’_

Frederick clicked his tongue twice, Cecil circled around, trotted back several meters, then circled back around. _‘And he is…’_

She tightened her grip before Cecil took off into a run, her eyes squeezed shut when they came to the ledge. Cecil pushed off the ledge, causing clumps of dirt to fall under her hooves. Anali felt them slide to a stop when they came to solid ground. Panting, Anali looked back up the ledge they had just come down from.

“Is… Is the horse okay?” Anali asked, panting.

“Not to worry.” Frederick patted his mare on the neck. Had the situation not been so dire, it would have sounded boastful. “It will take more than that to take down my dear Cecil.”

With a click of the tongue, Cecil continued her trek. The sky was filled with smoke and embers like the burning forest had spread to the very sky above them. A bright white light shown through the trees. Frederick instructed the horse to follow the direction of the light. There was no guarantee they would find Lissa and Chrom, but it was the only thing to go by.

Miraculously, it did not take long for them to find Lissa and Chrom with the blue-clad young man. “Milord! Milady!” Frederick exclaimed as they rode up to the trio. “Are you hurt?”

When Cecil came to a stop Anali tried to dismount, though she ended up landing in a heap on the ground. Frederick followed suit with the grace Anali lacked. “Frederick! Anali!” Lissa breathed out. As soon as Anali forced herself to her feet, she grabbed onto Anali’s forearms. She leaned in enough that Anali had to keep Lissa from falling over.

Spotting seven creatures surrounding them, Anali’s eyes widened. They were armed soldiers with pasty skin, she could smell the rotting stench of death. Her nightmare the other night came to mind, but she forced the thoughts away, instead, she wondered how she knew what the dead smelt like. “These uh…” she paused to swallow. “These creatures are not commonplace in Ylisse, are they?”

Chrom shook his head once. “I couldn’t tell you what they are.”

“So no one is injured?” Frederick asked when his first question was left unanswered. He took the resulting silence as an answer, “Thank the gods…”

“You should thank the boy who saved me!” Lissa pulled away from Anali, her usual chipper attitude was back once more. “If it wasn’t for him I’d be…” She paused, scrutinizing the area, she found the boy with the mask was nowhere to be seen. “Where’d he go?”

“We’ll have time to worry about him later, milady,” Frederick said, offering Lissa her healing staff. When Lissa took it, Frederick pulled himself back into Cecil’s saddle effortlessly. “After we put these… things to the blade, that is. Now, stay focused, all of you. We know nothing about this enemy.”

“Which means we’ll want Lissa to stay close by,” Anali said, unsheathing her sword with a sharp hiss. Looking at the creatures, her brow furrowed. “They look stronger, armed far better, than the brigands in Southtown. Someone should stay close to Lissa, keep her safe.”

“I shall take care of that,” said Frederick. “Will the two of you be able to keep yourselves alive?”

“Of course,” Chrom said instantly.

He sprinted off towards one of the Fighter creatures. Stupidly, Anali watched as he sliced Falchion through the creature as though he were a dancer. Fluidly, almost effortlessly, fighting was truly second nature to him.

For better or worse, Anali was snapped out of her revelry when one of the Mercenaries brought a sword down. She just barely managed to dodge out of the sword's path. She wrapped both hands around the hilt of her bronze sword and just swung it towards the Mercenary. The sword felt so odd in her hands, she had no idea what she was doing with the damn thing. The village idiot with a stick would have been doing a better job than her.

The Mercenary attacked again, its sword grazed Anali’s sleeve. Without truly thinking things through, Anali plunged her sword into the corpse's midsection. There was a long, agonizing moment of silence where the two just stared at each other, ignoring the chaos around them. When she tried to pull the sword out, the blade hardly budged an inch.

The Mercenary came back to its senses and readied its sword. Squeezing her eyes shut, Anali lifted her sword with as much strength she could muster. She lifted with her legs, guiding the blade up. By some miracle, Anali managed to force the blade out of the creature through its shoulder. Once it was freed she nearly fell over without the force of the corpse to fight against.

The creature let out an odd, strained cry before it dissolved into the dark haze. Instinctively, Anali looked down to find dozens of bugs scattering around her boots. Their shelled backs were a metallic purple color, and as long as her thumb. A terrified shriek escaped from Anali’s throat. She scampered back, tripping over herself in her rush to get away. What the heck were those things?!

“I’d learn to use that sword properly before going into battle next time!” Anali heard over the trotting of hooves. “Also I’d get up before you make yourself a sitting duck.”

A young woman pulled back on her horse’s reins as she drove the tip of her lance through one of the Fighter corpses. Her red hair was in a pageboy style but curled at the ends. She was dressed in red and silver armor, with her horse wearing matching barding. At first glance, she was most definitely not a woman to take anything from anyone. “Captain Chrom!” the woman called looking into the battlefield.

Several yards away, Chrom drew his arm back after beheading the corpse he was battling against. He glanced up in the direction of the voice to find the red-haired woman. “Sully! Good timing.” Chrom was beaming. “We could use another set of hands.”

Anali looked up at the woman, she had a hardened look in her eyes, and Anali could see the muscles in her arms. This woman was almost as intimidating as Frederick. “You… You know Chrom and Lissa?”

The woman looked down at her. Her head list to the side, her eyebrow cocked, her full lips pursed. “Who’re you?”

Her face flushed instantly. Would she stop looking at her? “Ah… I-I’m, eh… Ah-Anali,” she stuttered, “I-I’m just…”

“Don’t take your eyes off the enemy!”

Without warning, the woman, Sully, removed her foot out of the saddle's stirrup and kicked Anali in the shoulder. Her sword fell out of her hand, her arms flailed. Anali caught herself before she could fall. Sully pulled at her horse’s reins, signaling the stallion to turn around. She jabbed her lance into the shoulder of one of the Fighter cadavers.

Anali’s hands acted as though what she was doing was second nature to her. She ignored the sword at her feet and pulled out her tome. Opening to a random page, the paper began to burn away, the ashes transforming into orange-yellow runes around her hand. A volt of electricity shot out, striking the Fighter and finishing it off.

“Milady!” came a voice with the most peculiar accent in a sing-song tone.

Immediately, Sully released a loud, aggravated groan. “Him again...”

A tall dandy with long, light blue hair, emerged from the forest. He had a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. A silvery pauldron and couter shielded his left arm; he was a bit older than either Sully or Anali. Though he was out of breath, he tried to keep an air of charisma about him.

“ _Great_ ,” Sully moaned ruefully. She glared at the blue-haired man. “I thought I lost you a mile ago.”

The man rattled on, ignoring the chaos around him. “Life may be long but this attraction is fleeting! Leave war to the warriors, dear bird! A beauty such as you needs wage only in love.”

Anali glanced at Sully while she pointed at the man. “Friend of yours?”

“Pfft! Hardly!”

“Ah, the ladies are intrigued?” the man chuckled, impressed with himself. “Of course you are – it is only natural.” He started to make wild gestures with his arms. “For I am a myth and legend! For I am he, who strides large across history's greatest stage! My name, lovely ladies, is Vi-”

“Gotcha!”

The man let out a ridiculously high-pitched scream as a blur of red slammed into him. He landed face-first on the ground, a young woman wearing red and tawny brown clothes sat on the man’s back, her feet planted his wrists to the ground. Blonde hair poked out of her tawny bandana. She looked up at Sully, revealing rusty eyes and a face dotted with freckles. “Sorry…” the girl said, looking up at Sully, “I tried to keep up.”

“Do I know you?” Sully asked plainly.

“Mm… no.” The girl shook her head. She placed a gloved hand on the back of the man’s skull. “Heard this jerk giving you trouble, so I thought I’d help a sister out.”

“Hold on.” Anali crouched down beside the man and looked down at him. “You’re an archer, right? Are you any good?”

The man lifted his head, an action so sudden the girl jumped off him, landing on her back. “ _Virion_!” he exclaimed, his suave was gone just like that. “My name is Virion!”

“Alright,” said Anali, “Virion, are you a good archer?”

Gracefully, Virion stood up, startling the girl further. “‘Am I a good archer,’ she asks? Well, you shall be the judge of that.”

He took his bow and an arrow into his hands, he notched the arrow and pulled back the string. Anali’s heart was in her throat when Virion aimed straight at her. She opened her tome, cradling it close to her chest. She readied herself; if this man was about to fire at her to prove a point, then she would-

To her surprise, however, Virion released the arrow, and it flew past Anali’s cheek. It was just close enough so that she could feel a small gust of wind. She heard a strained cry from behind her, vaguely familiar as she had been hearing it a lot lately. Anali, Sully, and the girl looked to find an archer, who had aimed for Sully. Virion’s arrow had struck its skull. Its shoulders slacked before it disintegrated. Now, Anali could see the shelled bugs scattering at its feet. They buried themselves into the ground so fast…

“But, I would think so,” Virion replied coolly.

“Okay.” Anali gripped her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Okay. This works out for us. I mean since you’re here you might as well help.” Her gaze bounced between Virion and the girl. “Right. Virion, I want you to take Frederick’s place guarding Lissa. You,” she pointed at the girl.

“Ruby,” she said plainly.

“Ruby. Do you mind sticking with Sully? These things look kind of tough, so I would think you two can help each other.”

“We are to battle these… things?” Virion gestured to the walking corpses. “What do you take me for? Some barbari-”

“Hey!” Sully grabbed Virion by the back of his collar and lifted him up so that he was standing on the balls of his feet. “ _You_ followed me all the way here! You may as well help.”

“Especially after dragging me into all this,” Ruby muttered, a sword leaned against her shoulder.

“Sully, Ruby,” Anali spoke up, “I want you two to stay by the field borders, we don’t want these things to get away.”

“Sure thing.” Sully released Virion and offered a hand to Ruby. Taking it, she mounted Sully’s stallion behind his rider. Sully urged her horse forward towards a corpse that was about to step into the forest.

Anali decided it was a good thing that these creatures disintegrated into bugs when they reached their limit. Otherwise, the field would have been a bloody, bloody mess. Virion, Sully, and Ruby stayed where they were instructed as Chrom, Frederick and Anali battled against the creatures in the field. If someone found themselves injured to the point of bleeding, Lissa, with Virion at her heel, was quickly at their side with her healing staff.

Bent over double, Anali used her sleeve to wipe sweat from her brow and looked down at her tome. Its pages were already running low, fast. She wanted to cry out in frustration with each creature she saw. Was there no end to them?

Perhaps, she wondered, they had a leader of sorts, an alpha. If this hypothetical leader was taken out, would the subordinates follow suit? Surveying the area, Anali spotted one creature that was not like the others. Long limbs, charcoal grey skin, and wild hair, no clothes. That may have been the leader she was thinking of. But whether or not the other creatures would disperse was likely a long shot.

Taking her sword in her hand, Anali ran towards the creature. Maybe, hopefully, with a running start, she could get a lucky hit in. Just enough to injure it. When she was three feet away from the creature, Anali drew her arm back. Then, she thrust it forward, the tip of the blade pierced through the creature’s chest. She pulled out the sword, not quite sure what to expect now.

The creature wrapped its hand around its tomahawk, it stared straight at Anali. She stood her ground, her hands held onto the sword so hard her knuckles turned white. She was contemplating her next move when she noticed a flash of blue and white in her peripheral vision. Chrom sprinted right past her and faced off against the creature before it could throw its weapon. He got in a good strike, instantly, the creature started to twitch before it disappeared into haze and bugs.

Chrom slid Falchion back into his sheath and half-turned to look at Anali. “Sorry,” he gestured to where the creature once stood, “was that one yours?”

Flushed once again, Anali held her hands up. “No, no, no, no! All yours! I-I…” She gestured to her sword and said with a weak, pitiful laugh, “I have no idea what I’m doing with this thing…”

Chrom’s lips pulled back into a smirk. “Well, if you choose to join the Shepherds, we’ll work on it before you ever go into battle.”

“Okay.” Anali nodded. “Great.”

As Anali had hoped, the creatures disappeared after the leader was taken out. But not in the haze and insects. It was like the earth had swallowed the remaining creatures. In all likelihood, they weren’t gone. With the disappearance of the creatures, the fires oddly subdued; the early morning was beginning to peek out over the horizon. Though the fires were gone, the damage was done.

Regrouping, Sully dismounted her horse and gave him a brief pat on the muzzle. “I’d come out to scout the area.” She jerked a thumb in Virion’s direction. “Ran into Fop-leroy here on the outskirts of Ylisstol. Thought I lost him a while back, but alas. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Captain.”

“Thank the gods you did,” said Chrom. “I’m not sure how we could have faired without the extra help.” He turned to Virion. “You’re shooting is quite impeccable.”

“You flatter me, sir,” Virion said, placing a gloved hand over his heart.

“We could use someone of your skill among our numbers.”

"Ah, _what_?!" Sully shouted in protest. "This womanizing pervert?"

The gesture Virion had given Chrom as a sign of respect suddenly turned melodramatic. Virion's slender face paled and his hand gripped the fabric over his heart. "Your words stab, milady," Virion said through a strained voice. "Have I not proven my worth?"

"You followed me into the forest," Sully said flatly.

"Hey, he saved our hides by showing up," Lissa defended. She glanced over at Sully, adding, "And he was hovering over me the whole time, and stayed a good three feet away from me. I'd hardly call that perverted."

Chrom began speaking to Ruby, ignoring Virion's melodrama. “And I thank you for…” he paused, “coming to Sully’s aid, I suppose.”

Ruby shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think she needed it, but…”

“Your right about that. You seem quite adept with a blade. We have plenty of room in the Shepherds.”

The blonde’s brow rose. “Really?” She folded her arms behind her head and started to kick at the ground with one foot. “I hear the Shepherds are well-paid.”

“Yes. Yes, they are.”

“Do I have to sign a document or something?”

Frederick suddenly approached Chrom with the masked boy at his side. Anali studied him, his clothes were fine, he was slender; his jaw was delicate and clear. In short, he was effeminate, there was simply no other way to describe it. Anali was willing to believe he was simply a young woman masquerading as a boy. The alternatives were that he was sickly, or he was far younger than he looked.

"It seems nearly all the creatures were vanquished," Fredrick informed. He gestured to the blue-haired boy. "This young man took care of several others before they could get too far, but we have lost sight of some of them."

"I never got to thank you for before," Lissa said, taking a step towards the boy. She kept her hands behind her back and carried a bright smile on her face. "So… thank you. You were very brave."

"My name is Chrom," her brother introduced, "might I ask yours?"

The boy was silent for a moment before he answered, "You may call me Marth."

Anali could tell the name meant something to Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick, judging by the looks on their faces. The siblings dropped their mouths open slightly, while Frederick’s brow shot up to his hairline. The name, however, did not mean anything to Anali, not the way it did to these three. But she did feel like she may have heard it from somewhere, though where she had no idea. "After the heroic king of old?" Chrom asked the boy, breaking the silence.

Okay then, so Marth was an old legend or story. That might explain why Anali felt like she heard the name. Chrom continued with a smile, "Well, you certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?"

"I'm not here to talk about me," Marth said briskly. "This world is teetering on the brink of calamity. What you saw here tonight was just the prelude."

"What?" questioned Anali. "You're going to have to elaborate further on that."

Marth shook his head. "I've already said enough for now." Turning around on his heel, he walked off a few meters before he peered over his shoulder. With the mask on his face, he looked very calm and neutral. "You have been warned."

The young man continued on his way, ignoring the burnt-up grass at his feet, and the rising clouds of smoke. He disappeared into the forest off to parts unknown. When Marth had fully disappeared, well out of earshot, Lissa spoke up, "Chrom, what did he mean by that?"

"I couldn't tell you, Lissa," replied Chrom. "But it sounds like we'll learn soon enough."

"The guy's really not one for conversation is he?" Anali asked, rubbing the back of her neck. What the heck even _was_ that? If Marth wanted to be helpful he could have done it without being vague as all hell.

"No," Frederick agreed, "it would appear his skills lay elsewhere. But, I wager we'll hear his name again. I, however, am more concerned about the capital. We should make haste."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dream sequence took some influence from Owain’s support chain, as Odin, with Azura in _Fates_. Technically speaking, it was more than likely referencing the Future Past DLC, which basically solidified my headcanon that aspects of Future Past happened before the child units traveled back.
> 
> Always important to me that Anali doesn’t start out as some uber badass.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three  
Ylisstol**

The day kicked off by the time they arrived in Ylisstol. A bright, beautiful city with people bustling around, giving out polite morning greetings and similar small talk. Though she wanted to take in the sights, Anali found herself hiding in the collar of her bolero again. To her, people were staring with judgmental eyes, her the foreigner, the other, the troublemaker.

“It would appear the capital was spared of the chaos we endured,” observed Frederick. After they entered the city he had dismounted Cecil and was currently leading her by the reigns. “The quakes must have been limited to the forest. Thank the gods for that.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” Lissa said, clapping her hands together once.

“Is that even possible, though?” asked Ruby. “We weren’t that far from the city.”

Sully shrugged, like Frederick, she was leading her horse. “Hey, it means fewer deaths, less of a mess to clean up, and less chance of economic problems. I’ll take it.”

The townsfolk suddenly began pushing against each other; on either side of the street, the people gathered as a blonde woman upon a white horse rode down. She was dressed in green and gold robes; a golden halo was attached to the back of her head through her hair – Anali could not imagine the thing was that comfortable. Her hair hung over her shoulders in ringlets.

Four knights on pegasus-back kept the woman boxed in. Only one of them was without a helmet; her powder blue hair was pulled neatly back into a halo-braid, out of her eyes. Anali wondered why she didn’t wear her helmet with her fellows. “Is that the Exalt?” Anali asked, gesturing to the blonde woman as she rode by.

“Yes,” Frederick replied, his back straight and head held high as though he were being observed. “Her name is Lady Emmeryn.”

“Ah, a vision given life,” Virion said, posing as though he had a glass of wine in his hand. “I imagine such a lady to be the very definition of poise and grace.”

“Watch it.” Sully glared.

“She’s your ruler, yes?” asked Anali. “Is it really safe for her to be out in public like this with your bandit problems?”

“The Exalt is a symbol of peace.” Frederick’s tone made Anali think of a teacher or even a preacher lecturing their students. “Ylisse’s most prized quality. Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the Fell Dragon tried to destroy the world. But the first Exalt, Orev Ylisse, joined forces with the Divine Dragon and laid the beast low. Exalt Emmeryn reminds us of the peace we fought for.”

“And with Plegia at our borders, the people need her,” Chrom added, “she’s a calming presence when others might call for war.”

Anali understood what they were trying to say, but it sounded like Lady Emmeryn was more of a figurehead or mouthpiece than a queen. After seeing the brigand attack, it seemed little wonder that there would be those who would want to go to war with Plegia. And with the threat Marth warned of just hours ago, times were about to get darker. She sincerely hoped Lady Emmeryn knew when action was needed.

Still, there was something to be said about holding onto your morals like that. But was that an attribute a political leader should have? Anali wouldn’t put it past several citizens to believe Emmeryn wouldn’t take action even when it became clear that there was no other choice but action. Anali wasn’t brave enough to make her opinion known. “She sounds… impressive. The people of Ylisse are very blessed to have her.”

Lissa nodded in agreement. “Uh-huh! She’s also the best big sister anyone could ask for!”

“Yes,” Anali agreed with a smile, “I suppose – Wait, what?” Her expression dropped. The words ‘big sister’ bounced around in her head. The implications of Lissa’s words made Anali rethink everything within the last forty-eight hours. Her breath caught in her throat; Anali looked from Chrom and Lissa to Lady Emmeryn’s retreating figure, then back to the siblings. “Sh-She’s your…? B-But wouldn’t that make you and Chrom…?”

She could hear Sully let out a snort she tried to hide behind her hand. The expression the cavalier wore left her asking if Anali was for real. “The prince and princess of the realm, yes,” Frederick said with an amused smile. “You remember Chrom’s name, but not this?”

It was Frederick’s last statement that lead Anali to believe he just found the absurdity of the situation. Was her memory loss _that_ inconsistent?

“You said you were shepherds!” Anali snapped. Over Sully and Ruby’s chuckling, Anali clapped her hands over her mouth. She cursed herself for raising her voice so. To Virion’s credit, if he found amusement in her situation, he kept himself completely under control.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Chrom kept his eyes off Anali as he rubbed the back of his neck. “We just tend to a _lot_ of sheep.”

Anali kept her hands over her mouth, her mind replayed the last day or so, a few things had started to come together. With the way Frederick behaved around Chrom, she presumed that they were the children of a duke or at least someone of old money. But a prince and princess?! When Anali thought about it, there were a lot of things between waking up in the field and at this very moment that should have tipped her off. The way Frederick simply put up with Chrom and Lissa’s teasing. The way the villagers spoke with the siblings, the fine quality of their clothes, Lissa’s headpiece. _How in Naga’s name did Anali not see it sooner?!_

“Chrom!” Anali slapped her hands over her mouth again, silently cursing herself for her lack of control. Why couldn’t she get it together already? “ _Prince_ Chrom, sire! P-Please, forgive my ignorance. I-I’ve been so… so… I-I-I…” Defeated, Anali buried her face in her hands. Her cheeks felt warm against her palms, any warmer and her skin just might burn away. She squeezed her eyes shut, as though that would put distance between herself and Chrom. “Please just cut me down now…”

She could hear a harmony of feminine chuckles added with Virion’s tenor. Why was Virion getting in on it? He wasn’t exactly a local either, how did he know before she? And what about Ruby? She made it sound like she lived a nomadic lifestyle. Why was Anali the only one out of the loop?

_“Because of your amnesia, stupid,”_ said a little voice in her head.

Chrom clapped her on the shoulder, which took Anali by surprise. It was enough to make Anali open her eyes, lower her hands, and look up at him. Like the others, Chrom appeared to have had himself a good chuckle at Anali’s expense. But she could see in his face that he was trying to keep himself under control for the sake of her already wounded pride.

“Just Chrom is fine.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve never been overly fond of formalities.” He looked back towards the street; the people were beginning to scatter, going back to their usual business; Lady Emmeryn was nowhere to be found. “Looks like Emm’s returned to the palace. Would you like to meet her?”

“U-Um…”

“Oh, yeah!” Lissa placed her hands on Anali’s back and started pushing her down the road. “Wait till you meet her yourself!”

Anali did not say anything, not out loud at least. But her heart was rattling her bones, and everything inside her was screaming, _‘NO, NO, NONONONONONO NOOOOO!’_

###### 

Castle Ylisstol was built roughly a thousand years ago after the destruction of Archanea and it’s unification. It marked the end of House Lowell and the founding of House Ylisse as the land’s royal house. Anali wasn’t sure if the structure was supposed to be made of pure white marble, but from the outside, the castle bore a slight blue-ish tinge. It looked cold as ice.

Inside, after exiting the foyer, there were a bit more ‘homey’ colors, ivories, browns. Tapestries hung from the ceiling, in greens and gold, each bore the same mark Chrom wore on his shoulder. As soon as she set foot inside, as soon as she heard the ‘milord’s’ and ‘milady’s’ directed at Chrom and Lissa, Anali just wanted to turn and run.

Once again, she could feel as though the eyes of the guards, the servants, everyone were on her. The foreigner, the other, the Plegian. Habitually, Anali started fiddling with her hair, realizing with cold blood that it was matted, _again_. She could feel ash on the tendrils, the color no longer quite as pure. She desperately tried to make herself look somewhat presentable by running her hands through her hair a few times. The knots, she quickly learned, were not something her fingers could smooth out. She released a small dry sob when she realized this.

Unknown to her, Chrom came to a stop, allowing the group to head off without him. Approaching Anali, he placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him with a jump. “Anali, relax. I promise you, we’re not uppity people.”

“You’re… not,” Anali agreed. “Fine, but what of everyone else? Would they be okay with working alongside some homeless woman the prince picked up off the wayside? A woman who is, most likely, from the very kingdom trying to instigate war?” Her eyes squeezed shut as she raked a hand through her bangs. She didn’t mention how everyone looked at her, she didn’t want to sound whiney. She wanted to start crying, suddenly overwhelmed but her fear of looking overly childish kept the tears in.

She heard Chrom release a breath of air through his nose, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll be lying if I said it would be easy,” he said at length. “Ylisse’s relationship with Plegia and vice versa... I cannot promise much beyond House Ylisse’s trust.”

He paused for a moment to unlace his arms and rubbed the back of his neck. “My sister believes, if nothing else, an understanding between the two can be achieved if someone takes the first step, no matter how small.”

“And you think we could be that first step?” Anali shook her head, unable to decide if Chrom was having delusions of grandeur or not. He made it sound so simple when there was no possible way it could be. “I… I do not wish to cause you any trouble…”

“You won’t, Anali. I’m aware of the challenges, I’m aware that not everyone will be okay with a Plegian within our borders or the Shepherds. I am willing to face those challenges if you are.”

“ _Why_ though?”

“Because I believe something good can come from this. Because I believe you can find a place with us. If you cannot find family or friends, you can always have the Shepherds.” He tore his gaze away from Anali. “Or with your superior should you take an apprenticeship.”

Anali blinked once, twice, thrice.

She hadn’t put much thought into an apprenticeship. Though the thought of being paired up with a stranger in a master-apprentice relationship frightened her, she forced the thought out of her head. She was determined to make her decisions based on facts, not fear. And what facts she did know did not leave her feeling optimistic about an apprenticeship. She didn’t know if she had any useful skills nor did she know if she was a fast learner.

What Anali _did_ know, however, was that she was skilled in magic and had a tactical eye. They were fields she had some skill in, and while Chrom was indeed asking her to join the Shepherds for her skills, she was offering her a possible future. And… maybe make things easier on her by working with faces that were familiar to her now over working with strangers she’d just met. Though with that in mind joining the Shepherds seemed the obvious choice, Chrom was not trying to influence Anali and let the choice be hers and hers alone. He was making such generous offers to a stranger who could have been lying, who could have been planning something dubious. But Chrom had nothing but faith that she had good intentions.

“You are either a truly good man or a truly foolish one,” murmured Anali.

Chrom responded with a chuckle. “Amazing how often those two lines cross.”

Sighing, Anali hugged herself with one arm. “I suppose I am willing to face those challenges, too.” She took a moment to breathe in; what she was about to say weighed heavily on her before she could even speak them. “I would… be honored to call myself a Shepherd.”

“And we would be honored to have you.”

Anali tried to smile. Not even two days was the extent of her life, and here she was regardless. Rubbing elbows with Ylisse’s royalty, a new member of the Shepherds, about to meet the exalt.

In truth, she knew more about Chrom than she did about herself.

It was a thought that did not sit well with her.

They came to the throne room, a round room with a long, blue carpet going down the center of the room from the door to the throne. The throne itself was quite simple. It was clearly modeled after any other chair that could be found in any given study, save for two factors. The back of the chair stood taller than anyone sitting down on it and the same emblem found on the tapestries and Chrom’s shoulder was carved into it.

Lady Emmeryn was seated upon the throne, speaking with an elderly man in green robes when the door opened. Upon spotting her siblings she stood up, gathered her robes in her hands, and hurried to meet them half-way. Only then did Anali notice the mark, the very same worn by Chrom, upon Lady Emmeryn’s brow, right in the middle of her forehead.

Two questions popped into Anali’s head. Did Lissa bear the same mark somewhere? And was that how Virion knew of Chrom and Lissa’s identities before Anali?

Lady Emmeryn pulled Lissa and Chrom into a tight embrace, something they both reciprocated. Though she needed to lift herself onto the balls of her feet to reach Chrom. “Welcome home,” she greeted. Her voice was just as pleasant, gentle, and delicate as her appearance. She held hands with Lissa as she gave Frederick a knowing smile. “And good day, Frederick. I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“No more than usual, Your Grace,” Frederick said with a brisk nod.

“And how fared you all?”

“We…” Chrom avoided direct eye contact with his sister. “We shouldn’t have any problems with bandits for a while.”

Lady Emmeryn’s lips pursed briefly. She wanted to say more, but she let the matter slide. “That’s wonderful. And our people?”

“As safe as can be, Emm. We still need to watch our borders. At least two sets of brigands crossed over from Plegia in…” he thought for a moment, “about two days.”

“Forgive me, milord,” the powder blue-haired woman said, bowing her head briefly, “my Pegasus Knights should have intercepted them.”

Chrom held a hand up. “No, Phila. Your duty was here with Emm.”

The old man at Lady Emmeryn’s opposite side cleared his throat. He wore a small pair of round specs and removed them to clean using the fabric of his robes. Upon putting the specs back on, he cleared his throat. “Regardless, it sound’s like we will need to keep a closer eye on our borders. Two cases in as many days is not something to ignore easily. I shall alert the people as soon as possible.”

“Take no more precautions than necessary, Traino,” said Chrom, “we want to keep the people at ease for as long as possible.”

_‘Besides,’_ he added silently, _‘we might have more pressing matters at hand.’_

“Besides,” Lissa spoke up, her voice laced with glee, “we had plenty of help?”

Emmeryn’s face lit up, her blue eyes traveled to the trio of unfamiliar faces. “Ah, you speak of your new companions, here?”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Anali could see Ruby awkwardly rub the back of her head, knocking her tawny bandana askew. Behind her, Anali heard Virion release a brief chuckle. He held his chin in one hand, while the opposite held his elbow in the palm. Anali, in contrast, tried to hide in her robes. She was _just_ beginning to feel comfortable around her rescuers, why did she have to feel so shy now?

“Pleased to meet you, Your Grace,” Ruby gave the Exalt a salute, “name’s Ruby. I’ll try and keep my sticky fingers to myself.”

Frederick’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed by Ruby’s lighthearted jape. Or at least, he hoped it was a jape.

Lady Emmeryn stared at Virion, her thumb and forefinger held onto her chin, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Virion. “You… look familiar,” she said. “Have we met, perchance?”

“I do not believe so Your Grace,” Virion said, turning on the suave. “I’d remember meeting someone of your caliber and beauty.”

Chrom had to bite back a snort as soon as Phila’s eyes narrowed into a wicked glare. Gods, if looks could kill.

He placed an arm around Anali, ushering her up beside him. “And this is Anali,” he said, “she fought with us against the brigands yesterday. She’s just barely agreed to become our newest Shepherd.”

Emmeryn smiled. “Well, then I hope you can find your place amongst the Shepherds, Anali.”

Anali’s face felt hot to the touch. Without thinking, she moved a lock of hair behind her ear, absently thinking about tying it back as soon as she got the chance. Why did she wear it down? It was proving to be too much a hassle to wear it down.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I must speak up,” Frederick announced. As soon as he opened his mouth, Anali’s heart sunk into her stomach. “Anali claims to have lost her memory, but it is only that; a claim. We found her wearing the Plegian garb as you see before you. If that were the only issue, I may not be speaking now, but it’s not.”

“Frederick!” Chrom hissed.

“She bears the sigil of Grima on the back of her hand.”

“Wh-What?!” gasped Traino. His head jolted back with such a force his glasses were knocked askew.

Sully spoke at the same time as Traino. “Wait, what?!”

“Milord!” Phila gasped. She stood part-way between Emmeryn and Anali. “What on earth could have possessed you to-”

“Peace, Phila,” Emmeryn said calmly. Placing a hand on Phila’s shoulder, she gently ushered her out of her path. The exalt was eerily calm, which lead Anali to worry. “Chrom, did you ever plan on telling me about this?”

“I…” Chrom struggled to find his words, “I thought we could discuss this privately.”

“In other words, avoid the matter altogether,” quipped Traino. Chrom’s grimace was instantaneous. The Hierarch was practically family and pegged him down perfectly.

“Wait, Emm!” Lissa stood between Emmeryn and Anali. “We both know how this looks, even Anali does. But she’s had plenty of opportunities to do something if she was a Plegian spy. And we all know for a fact that _Frederick_ would have been the first person to see and do something if Anali was up to something no good.”

“With all due respect, milady,” said Phila. Her eyes traveled between the young princess and Anali. “With the precautions we’ve had to take at our borders this year alone, Plegia would have to be crafty by default.”

“And, if I may,” Traino shot a glare at Anali, “this amnesia ploy could easily be an act to gain the sympathy of Ylisse’s goodhearted prince and princess. If word got out that a Plegian is amongst us, the people would surely-”

“Please,” Anali spoke up. She brushed Chrom’s arm off her shoulder and lead Lissa away from her. “Your Grace, the last thing I want to do is cause problems. I will gladly leave now if I truly must.”

“No, Anali,” said Chrom. He placed both hands around her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. “We can work our way around this. This is just-”

Emmeryn held her hand up once more, silencing her brother. “If your claims are true,” she said to Anali, her voice was firm and calm, “and you have lost your memory, would you truly be okay with leaving? I can place you in our apprenticeship program, but there are bound to be masters who aren’t too keen on taking in a Plegian. You could very well be forced to live out on the streets. Are you truly okay with that?”

Gritting her teeth, Anali held her hands at her bust, one over the other so her left hand covered her right. “I cannot say that I’d be okay with it,” she stressed. “But… But your brother and sister have been kind to me. I do not want to cause them any more trouble than necessary.”

“You’re not trouble, Anali,” insisted Chrom. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders again. “Emm, I’ve been trying to live by your example and I believe Anali is a welcomed aspect to the Shepherds, regardless of where she comes from. We cannot hold her responsible for being Plegian anymore than we can hold the sky responsible for being blue. Especially given her circumstances.”

Emmeryn remained quiet, allowing Chrom to make his piece; her eyes remained on her brother and Anali all the while. Once Chrom had finished, her eyes fell upon Anali, who was still trying to hide in her clothes. “May I see it?” Emmeryn asked her.

Swallowing, Anali slowly removed her left hand from her chest. She held her right hand out to the exalt, showing the mark, the light purple lines, the eyes, to the rest of the world. “Gods damn…” Sully barely whispered.

Phila tried to remain calm and collective as she should have, but her flaring nostrils deceived her simmering anger. In a matter of seconds, Traino aged by another twenty years. Anali was barely aware of the fact that Lissa kept one hand balled over her mouth, or that Frederick’s gaze steadily traveled between Emmeryn and Anali.

Silently, Emmeryn carefully took Anali’s hand into both of her own. She dipped herself slightly to get a good look at the mark; she remained still as a statue in her observation. There was something strangely ethereal about the mark, but it’s meaning was completely lost on Anali’s part. A lot was going against her for her origin, and the mark may as well have been the final nail on the coffin.

After a pregnant pause, Emmeryn released Anali’s hand and straightened herself back up. “I cannot say that I’ve heard of Plegians, or even those of the Grimleal, bearing such a mark on their bodies. So, I would not have an inkling of who you could have been before, given that your claims are true.” Closing her eyes, Emmeryn took in a deep breath. When she reopened her eyes she held her gaze straight upon her younger brother. “Chrom, you know all of this, yet you allowed her into the palace. Does this woman have your trust?”

“Yes,” Chrom said without hesitation, “Anali risked her life to save our people, and may have saved mine. Or at the very least, she prevented serious injury. That’s good enough for me.”

Emmeryn’s eyes fell back upon Anali once more, and the woman flushed once again. “Well, then Anali,” the Exalt began calmly. Slowly, she smiled warmly at the young woman. “It seems you have earned Chrom’s faith and as such, you shall have mine as well.”

“Thank you, milady,” murmured Anali.

The Exalt’s gaze glanced up at Frederick. “And thank you for your prudence, Frederick. Chrom and Lissa are blessed to have so tireless a guardian. I do hope they remember to mention it from time to time.”

“They… occasionally express _something_ akin to gratitude, Your Grace,” sighed Frederick. He glanced over at Phila. “I also regret to inform you that something… odd happened on our return to Ylisstol. I assume the council meeting is still scheduled for today?”

“Yes, of course,” said Emmeryn. “Chrom, I was hoping you could join us.”

Nodding, Chrom released a brief, ‘Mm,’ Immediately, if not somewhat playfully, Lissa tossed an exasperated look towards the trio of new Shepherds. “That’s our cue, folks. Follow me, I’ll give you guys a tour, we can meet the rest of the Shepherds.”

Ruby’s balled hands gathered in front of her mouth barely containing her excitement. “I heard the Shepherds garrison doubles as their housing.”

“Yep.”

The thief squealed, “I haven’t slept in a bed in days!”

The blondes took off ahead of the group by several paces. Anali was half-tempted to follow suit, but neither Sully nor Virion had done the same. A sudden hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. She glanced over her shoulder to find Sully wearing a slight glare. “I’m gonna tell you this _once_ ,” said Sully. Her voice was low, and each word stabbed into Anali like a dagger. She squeezed Anali’s shoulder before she continued, “If you do _anything_ to betray the trust of Chrom, Lissa, or Lady Emmeryn, you can bet your ass that you will meet the end of my lance. Understood?”

Anali was certain her eyes had gone wide. She nodded, trying not to come across as over-eager, but still trying to get the point across. She was also quite aware that it likely wouldn’t matter to Sully if she said yes or not. Just like Frederick, his stance barely changed since yesterday.

However, Sully left Anali stunned when she removed her hand from her shoulder and gave it a clap. “Glad we got that out of the way,” Sully said, her tone lacking any of the threat it carried previously.

###### 

As far as Chrom was concerned, the hardest part was over. It was not that he doubted Emmeryn would accept Anali, but she did often think with the people's best interest at the forefront of her mind. His words about both sides needing just one person to bridge the gap, they were more Emmeryn’s than his own. If Chrom were in her shoes they would have marched into Plegia’s capitol and deposed King Gangrel by now. But, that was the kind of thing Exalt Calhoun would have done. Which was the very thing that lead Ylisse into the situation it’s in today. That was why Ylisse needed Emmeryn, Chrom would do his duty by keeping the people safe in her sted. He and the Shepherds would fight back against the bandit's Gangrel no doubt encouraged into Ylissean territory.

That was what Chrom decided several years ago.

When the five of them, Chrom, Emmeryn, Traino, Frederick, and Phila arrived in the council room, the seven dukes and duchesses of Ylisse’s seven duchies were already seated at the large, round table. The same faces of men and women Chrom essentially grew up seeing. He started attending council meetings when he was fifteen; in that time, the councilmen had only two changes.

Upon taking his seat beside Emmeryn, Chrom was showered with various greetings from the council. The ‘how are you, milord,’ and ‘have your Shepherds been doing well,’ and ‘how fair your scouting this time around,’ and ‘did Princess Lissa drive you crazy out there?’

Emmeryn calmly requested the council hold off their questions until Chrom and Frederick completed their report. Chrom recounted the past few day's events to the councilmen. The events at Elrond and Southtown and how similar the attacks were. “Enough is enough, already!” Escalus slammed his hands onto the table as he stood up.

Duke of Duir, an old, childhood friend of Calhoun’s, with a son the same age as Emmeryn. Chrom had no affection for Escalus, for being one of Calhoun’s biggest supporters. For being Emmeryn’s biggest obstacle more often than naught, trying to start problems amongst the council, belittling Emmeryn’s accomplishments. Chrom had some memory of Escalus insisting on becoming regent after his parent's deaths until Emmeryn was fifteen. If that came to past Chrom did not doubt that Ylisse would be in a worse state than it was when the war ended.

His only son, Tybalt, was one Chrom would have loved to have amongst the Shepherds. There were very few in Ylisse who flew on griffon’s and would have been a welcomed asset. But for whatever reason, Escalus refused it. Never mind that Tybalt was well into his adult years. For whatever reason, Escalus had his son directly under his thumb. Chrom suspected something was going on behind closed doors but had little evidence beyond a gut feeling.

“Attack rates this year are at its highest,” ranted Escalus, “and it’s only March! They’ll burn us all to the ground at this rate! I say we finish what we started fifteen years ago and be done with it!”

“That is enough, Escalus! I will not tolerate such talk. We will hear all Chrom has to say and then have a discussion.” Emmeryn’s voice was commanding, though she did not raise it. She so rarely lost her temper, though Chrom had been on the receiving end of such a rarity once in his life. “Chrom, if you please…”

“Of course,” Chrom said with a brief nod.

He continued his story, explaining what happened in Elrond, tiptoeing around the caravan as to not delve the counsel into a shouting match. The story went from the events of Elrond to finding Anali and the ensuing battle in Southtown and made it clear that Anali aided them when she didn’t need to. “So, you needed a little help from a wayward lass, milord?” Shalom asked playfully.

Currently, the oldest living member of the council, Shalom Alder still looked haunted by his month in prison over a year ago, framed for hiring a common thief to rob from Ylisse’s royal treasury. Shalom was almost put to death for it, were it not for the anonymous tip implying Shalom was set up. The man was caught, but Chrom always suspected he was the fall man. Not directly responsible for it, but worked with the guilty party and had covered for his accomplice. But Chrom never had any proof to back this up.

Shalom was almost put to death for it were it not for the anonymous letter implying Shalom was set up by one of the councilmen, but it never said who. Chrom would bet Falchion itself that it was Escalus, but no one confessed, and he had no proof.

“Not exactly. Not yet, anyway.” Chrom’s face lit up a little when Shalom spoke of Anali. No, she wasn’t about to challenge the Valmese Emperor, but she was still something else. Her tactical incite, her skill with magic, and just the way she was able to carry herself despite her circumstances. “She requires a bit of training, but she should thrive amongst the Shepherds. Actually, we have two other recruits.”

“Always wonderful to hear in such trying times,” said Sosie. Chrom knew Rowan’s current duchess as a kind woman. She had three sons, the eldest being around thirteen. “My youngest is counting the days until he can join the Shepherds for himself.”

“We’ll be happy to have him as soon as he’s fifteen.” Fifteen was the youngest they would accept for the Shepherds. Since the Shepherds were first established, there had only been one exception to the rule, Emery of Carlisle’s son, Ricken. He was one year off, but between his noble status and gift for magic, they made the exception. In theory anyway. Ricken had yet to see proper battle outside of training.

“Milord,” Frederick cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters at hand.”

Traino, with his arms, crossed over his chest, and a very solemn expression on his face nodded grimly. “With two Plegian attacks on the same day… Milady, I know you don’t want it to come to that, but I think we should start preparing our armies for the worst.”

Emmeryn’s eyes were cast downward, locked on her hands in her lap. Her expression was calm, but Chrom knew this was one of, if not the last, things she wanted to hear. Ylisse was still recovering from the last time they went to war. Could their people suffer through another one?

And that was ignoring the other threat that was bound to plague Ylisse at the moment.

“Sister…” Chrom spoke after a pregnant pause, “there is something else we have to worry about. You are aware of the quake last night?”

Lady Reeli took in a shaky breath as Chrom recounted the morning’s events. He did, however, leave out Marth’s warning. Perhaps it was a choice that would come back to bite him in the ass later, but how was he supposed to explain it? Chrom himself barely knew how to process this information. A young man in a mask arrived out of some ethereal portal with a warning of destruction? And he was carrying the name of the famed Hero-King, no less. The council would no doubt have questions that Chrom couldn’t answer.

Frederick said nothing when Chrom omitted Marth from the story. He likely realized why the prince left out the swordsman. Instead, Chrom would tell Emmeryn and Phila about Marth in private, the Exalt had every right to know of the man who saved their little sister.

At first, the council would not believe him about the creatures no doubt. But in time, they would, when the creatures were seen by more and more villagers. At most, they would assume they were bandits. But the travelers would get better looks at them. There would come a point where they could not remain in denial, these creatures will eventually become common knowledge, for better or worse.

Though they were still in recovery, the Ylisseans were strong. Emmeryn would always say as such. They would retaliate against such creatures in one form or another.

“This is all very troubling, no doubt,” said Lady Ainsley, “even if we can counter-attack the people will be scared out of their wits. You say these creatures are like the dead given life?”

“Well, Lissa put it like that, not me,” said Chrom.

“I agree,” said Emery, “if things are getting as bad as the prince says, who knows what it will do to the people's morel. If need be, would they even bother fighting back?”

“If it’s morel we need,” Ainsley said with a haughty laugh, “then why not see our dear prince marry? That will certainly give the people the hope they need. And my Sumia just so happens to be of marrying age.”

Keeping his arms folded across his chest was all Chrom could do to prevent himself from burying his face in his hands. He had nothing against Sumia personally, from what he could see, she was a lovely girl. But if Lady Ainsley did not look for every single opportunity to push Chrom to be with her… Gods, he could only imagine what poor Sumia had to put up with.

There was a point in their childhoods when Chrom and Emmeryn were both betrothed to a child from one of the councilmen; Chrom with Sumia and Emmeryn with Tybalt. Calhoun had died before he could find a match for Lissa. But once Emmeryn took the throne one of the first things she did was abolish their engagements. The argument Emmeryn made was that Calhoun married their mother of his own choosing and she was a stable hand when they met. Why should his children not get the same privilege?

Suffice to say, neither Ainsley nor Escalus were happy with it. Ainsley went as far as to demand Traino do something about it, without realizing that he was only Ylisse’s Hierarch and Emmeryn’s adviser, not the Exalt himself. Chrom thought Escalus had, begrudgingly, let it go, but Ainsley… If there wasn’t a meeting where she wasn’t trying to push Chrom into forming a sort of relationship with Sumia.

Shalom’s face perked up slightly. “Well, what luck, my Maribelle just became of marrying age.” A brief chuckle escaped his lips. “But I’m afraid I couldn’t let her go just yet.”

When Lady Reeli started to playfully bemoan the fact that her only child, her daughter was just learning to walk, Chrom was fighting the urge to sink into his chair. It did strike him as unfair that they weren’t teasing Emmeryn like this. She had never shown any interest in romance, let alone marriage, preferring to put the needs of her people first. And yet the counsel never teased her the way they did him.

“Please, let’s try to get back on track,” Emmeryn said, trying, and failing, to hide her smile. “I’m not sure how much more our prince can take. I’m sure Chrom will find himself a beautiful girl to wed in his own time and we will love her. Us talking about it will not make it happen any faster.”

As grateful as he was for Emmeryn’s change of subject, he was a little put off by what she said. Finding a ‘beautiful’ girl, well for one, Chrom would rather not choose his life partner on physical appearance alone. And two, if he did he would be holding his future wife against impossible standards. No woman could ever hope to match the beauty their mother held.

###### 

The Shepherds garrison was about half a mile away from the palace. It was a circular brick building that, at first glance, did not look like much. At least, not to Anali, who could admit she did not know much about the architect. It was pretty simple, the only eye-catching part of the outer building was one part of the wall with bricks so damaged it looked like someone was trying to dig through the wall to get it. “Ah! This place looks amazing!” Ruby exclaimed, taking off from the group to half-jog to the front door.

“Is it?” asked Anali.

Virion shrugged one shoulder lazily. “Hmm? I have seen better.”

“The garrison serves as the Shepherds home base,” Lissa explained. “They’re housed here, trained here, eat here. They’re given a weekly pay of which your free to do with what you wish. We do have rules each Shepherd is expected to follow, but we’ll go over those in a bit.”

Inside, Anali was expecting something arena-like, for whatever reason. But, instead, she was met with a foyer that lead to five different halls, two on either side and one that kept going straight. The walls were formed from grey brings with wooden beams every several meters.

Sully parted from the group, looking to put away her armor as Lissa lead them to the mess hall. The mess hall was big enough to fit an army, but it was only housing a handful of people at one of the tables. Each person was pretty chummy with each other, lost in several conversations. Abruptly, a girl with sunny blonde hair done in ringlets shot onto her feet as soon as she heard the door open. She was dressed in pastel pink and carried a parasol in one hand. Smiling boldly, the girl hurried over to Lissa and the two met each other halfway.

“Lissa, darling!” the girl said. With those two words alone, Anali could tell the girl had a refined speech pattern. She almost found it humorous compared to the way Lissa spoke so casually with others.”

“Hey, Maribelle!” Lissa tossed her arms around the other blonde.

“Hey, yourself!” snapped Maribelle. “I’ve developed premature grey hair, every hour, on the hour, fretting over you since I heard about the quake, and all you can say is ‘hey?!’”

“What?” Lissa asked innocently with a teasing smile. “We weren’t gone for that long, and it’s not like I can’t handle a battle or two. Though I could’ve gone without the rabbit and squirrel meal.”

Maribelle heaved a heavy, exasperated sigh. “Of course, I’m not saying that darling, but can you honestly blame me?”

Lissa started to wave her hand dismissively. “Oh, it was nothing we couldn’t handle. Besides we had plenty of help.” The Cleric gestured each person as she listed off, “Meet our newest Shepherds, Virion, Ruby, and Anali.”

Instantaneously, a young woman with long ash brown hair stood up. She was wearing a breezy, casual, lilac dress, something easy to move in. She wore a sunny smile on her face, eager to make a good impression. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, “my name is-”

She ended up cutting herself off. In her attempt to step away from her seat, her foot clipped onto the bench, or maybe her skirt got caught. She fell face-first onto the floor; the bench nearly toppled over with her had the boy she was seated beside not grabbed onto the table. Anali gasped, “Are you okay?!” and bolted towards the girl.

“Y-yes!” the young woman said, pulling herself up with a weak smile. Slowly, she stood up and dusted off her skirt. “I’m eh… just breaking in a new pair of boots is all.”

There were more than a few grumbles from the group at the table. The young woman was not actually wearing boots, but Anali kept it to herself, if only for the lady’s dignity. Composing herself, the woman held her hand out to Anali. Neither of them noticed the blond man with a muscular physique canning his head around. “As I was saying,” the woman said as though the fall never happened, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Anali, right? I’m Sumia.”

Anali put on the best smile she could, took Sumia’s hand into her own, and shook. First impression, Sumia seemed like a kind, gentle person. She had something of a calming aura around her, and she had a face as fresh as rain.

“What the hell?!”

The three newcomers all jumped as a muscular blond man with an olive skin tone stood up. He marched up to Sumia and Anali, Lissa took a step forward, “Vaike!”

But Vaike had pried Anali’s hand out of Sumia’s by the wrist; the right wrist. He jammed the back of Anali’s hand into Lissa’s face, forcing the girl in question alongside with him. Some of the various people at the table craned to the side, trying to get a look at what the fuss was about. Save for a woman with red hair who kept her nose buried deep in her book. “What the actual fuck?!” snapped Vaike. “You’re telling me we’ve gotten so fucking desperate that we need help from one of them?!”

Anali could hear a small gasp from Sumia, follow suit by the rustling of hair. “Vaike, you’re not being fair!”

Instantaneously, Vaike whirled around on Sumia. “Not. Fair?!” Venom dripped from his voice; his face had flushed. “You’ve seen the damage they’ve done before, what they’re still doing now. And all you can say that calling her out is ‘not fair?!’”

“Hey, buddy, c’mon.” A young man with shaggy olive green hair stood up from his seat. He was at Vaike and Anali’s side, trying to ease Vaike’s grip off her. “You can’t blame one person for something that happened over ten years ago.”

He successfully freed Anali’s wrist from Vaike’s grip. The man took Anali’s hand into his own and pulled back her sleeve with his other hand. It wasn’t until he turned her arm so it was palm-up did Anali realize he was checking for injury.

Vaike scoffed. “Her. Her father, her kinsmen, they all deserve the blame.”

“Vaike!” snapped Lissa. “Anali has a tactical eye, and I agree with Chrom when he says we could use someone of Anali’s talents.”

“Wait, wait, what?!” Vaike looked like someone had just slapped him across the face. “Letting her in was Chrom’s idea?”

“Of course it was,” said the red-haired woman at the table. “He’s the one who leads the Shepherds, you ignoramus. His say outweighs yours.”

The youngest member of the table, a boy about fourteen piped, “That’s right! You wouldn’t question Chrom’s judgment, would you, Vaike?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t,” Vaike admitted, “but we're talking about an obvious Grimleal fanatic.”

“Vaike,” Lissa kept a glare on the bond, “I’ll have you know, Anali helped us save Southtown from Plegians just yesterday. As well as helped us through all the chaos this morning.”

Without missing a beat, Vaike opened his mouth to argue. He was quickly cut off by Lissa holding up a finger. “Up-pup! Save it. Frederick gave us this speech already. I can assure you, if Anali had anything planned, surely she would have done it by now.”

Anali’s brow furrowed, her hands balled up at her side. “Can we please stop talking about me like I’m not here?” she asked, her voice raised only high enough to make herself heard. She glanced over her shoulder at Ruby and Virion. “Besides, I’m not the only new member.”

“That is right,” Virion said, his arms outstretched into a grandiose gesture. “My magnificence is blinding, I know. But rest assured I shall do my very best to keep us all alive.”

Sumia held a hand to her lips, her brow rose as soon as Virion spoke up. “Can’t you just say ‘hi’ and get it over with?” Ruby asked. “Is there anywhere I can get something in my stomach. I’m starving.

Virion had taken the opportunity to toss a glance as Sumia. He placed a gloved finger over his lips. She nodded briefly, a silent understanding.

Scoffing, Vaike left the room, largely unnoticed by the rest of the room. The man with olive-green hair had introduced himself to Anali as Stahl. She quickly found he was as easy to like as Sumia. He didn’t appear to have much in the ways of ambition, he appeared quite content with where he was. It was probably the laid-back vibes he gave off that helped Anali relax after that previous scrutiny.

Miriel was the red-haired woman with the book. Anali finally noticed the wire-framed glasses over her eyes. Miriel gave off a scholarly air about her; she still held her book in her hand as she introduced herself to Virion, Ruby, and Anali. Unexpectedly, Miriel just up and grabbed Anali’s right hand and brought the back of it close to the level of her eye. “Fascinating,” she said, more to herself than to Anali. Miriel’s eyes glanced down. Anali yelped as Miriel moved the flap of her coat back revealing the yellow tome at her side. “You practice magic?”

“A-ah…” Anali took several steps back, yanking the coat out of Miriel’s hand. “A-A bit, yes.”

“Oh, cool!” said the boy. His hair was an oxford red; Anali noticed his clothes, though casual, looked a bit finer than Stahl’s or Miriel’s. He must have come from money or the like. “I could give you a few pointers if you’re interested. Oh! I’m Ricken, by the way.”

Anali heard Stahl speaking to Ruby, something about him being hungry too and offering to make something when the introductions were over and done with. A girl, around Lissa and Maribelle’s age, stepped away from Virion. Anali took a stab in the dark and guessed that he tried flirting with her. “Oh, hello,” the girl greeted with a warm smile. Her hair was a shade of sandy blonde, done in a bob cut. She wore a green dress with a white apron. Though it lacked the crinoline, Anali realized it looked an awful lot like Lissa’s dress. “My name is Elaine. I’m technically not one of the Shepherds, but if you get pretty beat up during training, I’ll be there to patch you up.”

This bit of information confused Anali at first. But it wouldn’t be until later that night she would learn that Elaine was indeed a Cleric, much like Lissa. She wasn’t a Shepherd, but the daughter of a local Bishop. She was working as one of the Shepherd's infirmary workers for the first-hand experience.

Now, when it came to Maribelle, the blonde girl looked Anali over once. “Tsk. I would hope you were cut from finer cloth, darling,” she said. Darling? Anali had to be older than her. Regardless, Maribelle held her white parasol out in front of her. “I do understand that the hoi polloi cannot help what class they were born into. I really do. But I would hope that you have some standards. Make a good first impression and the like.”

“Maribelle!” gasped Lissa.

“I’m only laying my opinions out on the table now, darling,” Maribelle said, pursing her lips. “It will make things less awkward that way.”

“Well,” Anali said plainly, “in a way, I’ve gone through a rough couple of days.” She paused to shrug. “Can’t really be helped much now. Can it?”

“No, I suppose it can’t,” the blonde agreed. “Well, first impressions are deceiving, after all. I suppose there is plenty of time to prove that there is indeed a lovely gem under all that…” Maribelle gestured to Anali’s person, “well.. and change my mind.”

Without another word, Maribelle walked off with her head held high. Lissa glanced at Maribelle’s retreating figure, to Anali, then back. She held up one hand to Anali, as though to say ‘one moment please,’ then ran off to catch up with Maribelle. “Ah… Don’t take her words to heart, Anali,” Sumia said quickly. “Maribelle just warms up to people slowly.”

“Or burns them too quickly,” murmured Stahl.

Slowly, Anali nodded. “I figured as much,” she said quietly. “She managed to befriend Lissa, after all.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s right!” said Sumia.

Anali felt a bit conflicted, wondering if she really made the right choice in saying yes to Chrom’s offer. It was a comfort to think that she could easily befriend a few people in this room. But Anali felt more like an outsider than anything else. It was so painfully obvious that everyone in this room had known each other for a long time, and Anali wasn’t much of a social butterfly.

She was the one out of place here. Anali without any memory of herself before yesterday. Anali with the foreign cloak and the foreign mark on her hand. Anali who was most likely from the country Ylisse was currently feuding with.

###### 

Sumia was the last to leave the mess hall that night, having been assigned kitchen duty for the evening. She wanted to see how Anali was settling in, as she would be bunking with her and Elaine in their room. She was hardly two feet out of the kitchen when she jumped in place at the sight of an older woman with the same ash brown hair as her. Though the women was more on the gray side compared to Sumia’s.

Duchess Ainsley Rebeck only dawned her Falcon Knight garb when she traveled, having been in a similar position as her daughter in her youth. Tonight, however, she wore one of her better gowns, light fuchsia in color, with sleeves almost as long as the skirt. At first glance, it would have been easy to place Sumia and Ainsley as mother and daughter, but upon closer inspection, it was a wonder Ainsley made someone as sweet as Sumia.

The Duchess’ eyes were in a constant glare like she was forever bitter at the world at large. The air about her could fill a person with dread, just the sight of the woman made you want to get into her good graces for intimidation alone.

“M-Mother,” Sumia stammered. “It’s a… That is to say… I thought-”

“What do you think you’re doing darling?” Ainsley asked approaching her daughter. Though by Sumia’s own admission, she was about the average height of a woman her age, Ainsley was a petite woman. Sumia's body language told an entirely different story.

“I don’t know what you mean, Mother.”

“You’re letting him get away from you. Don’t you want to be the person most adored by Prince Chrom?”

Instantly, a rosy blush formed on Sumia’s cheeks. “I-I suppose, but-”

Ainsley’s lips pulled back into a sneer, an unpleasant, ugly look on her face. “Then get on it! Before that-that Plegian steals him from you!”

Sumia’s brow furrowed, her mouth opened slightly. “You mean Anali?” she asked. She did not like how her mother was speaking about her, Anali seemed like a decent person despite her situation. It probably should be a cause for alarm, but Sumia simply wasn’t seeing it.

Tossing her hands up, Ainsley started to circle Sumia. “You weren’t there, darling,” she ranted, “the way the Prince spoke of that… thing. Clearly smitten by her already, the tramp. If the gods are merciful, Lady Emmeryn will have the right sense to put a stop to it now.”

“But Anali doesn’t seem that bad, Mother,” Sumia said sheepishly. “A-And, besides… if you’re right and it comes to that… isn’t it up to the Captain?”

She regretted saying anything the moment Ainsley stopped and gave Sumia a nasty glare. “Haven’t we been over this, foolish girl?” Ainsley asked darkly. “You were supposed to be Prince Chrom’s intended. You would be a married woman by now if not for Lady Emmeryn’s youthful ignorance. You need to step up your game and show Prince Chrom that you’re actually worth something.” Turning on her heel, Ainsley let out a scoff. “What other man in their right mind would take you otherwise?”

It was always like this, Ainsley, obsessed with raising House Rebeck’s status. As soon as she had herself a daughter, that goal was within reach. Exalt Calhoun agreed to an engagement between her daughter and his son. But then Exalt Emmeryn, barely nine abolished not only Chrom’s engagement but her own. Ainsley chalked it up to youthful ignorance.

But, since then, Ainsley drilled it into Sumia’s head that she had to win over the prince over the old-fashioned way. But Sumia herself never fully understood why, or why it had to be the prince. Why should she bother with someone who never seemed interested anyway? It did not seem all that fair to either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this, I’d legitimately forgotten to include Kellam during the introductions. For better or worse, it worked out well enough that I didn’t bother to go back and fix it.
> 
> When I originally wrote this, Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa’s parent’s weren’t even name dropped until like… after Gangrel’s death. And any hints about the transition between Archanea’s destruction and Ylisse’s construction only started to come up around the name time. Partially because Awakening was my first Fire Emblem. At the time I understood that the Ylissean royals were descended from Marth, I don’t think it quite clicked that the events of Gaiden happened after Shadow Dragon, nor did I understand that Jugdral is implied to be the distant past.
> 
> While Ainsley did exist as early as the original version, just what kind of parent she was wasn’t clear until after Sumia got married. Ainsley’s an ‘odd’ character. Not that she was particularly deep or anything, just that she ended up straying so far away from what I had originally intended. Ainsley was just supposed to be obnoxious (especially towards Sumia’s husband) but harmless. Somehow I ended up writing her as emotionally abusive. The logical conclusion?


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four  
Breathe Again**

Thick clouds of ash and embers shielded the waxing moon from view. Ylisstol, once a place of splendor, now steadily burned away. The same grey, sickly creatures roamed the city streets, attacking anyone they could find, killing just as many. Those who tried to flee attacked back as best they could. But not everyone was able to escape Ylisstol with their lives.

Castle Ylisstol still stood, just barely. The creatures had already found their way in. The soldiers fought back as best as they could, but the overwhelming numbers of the creatures made their efforts difficult.

One of the soldiers was slammed against the wall. Tears in their eyes as the creature breathed a black smog into their face. Abruptly, the creature paused, the soldier they had pinned down held their breath. The creature looked down to find the tip of a sword sticking out from its abdominal area. “I believe the woman you want,” said the attacker, her voice low and dangerous, “is _me_!”

In a swift movement, the girl lift her sword, slicing through the creature until it vanished into a flurry of black haze and metallic bugs. The girl stood up straight, her back to the soldier. “We can’t let these things win,” she told the soldier. “Now grab a sword, and fight!”

The soldier grabbed the fallen creature’s axe, they mutter something to the girl before jumping back into the fray. A stray cry stole the young woman’s attention, an axe suddenly came hurtling towards her. She blocked the attack with her sword, then pushed off the axe. She slid, then thrust forward, plunging the sword into the creature.

Before she could even admire her kill, another creature came barreling up to her. She blocked the oncoming attack successfully, she maneuvered herself around so that she could attack the creature from behind. She missed. Sliding to a stop, the girl glanced over her shoulder to find yet another creature gearing for an attack.

Without warning the east wall was blown to bits, debris flew into the hall as the rest of the structure was blown apart. The young woman cried out, her arms shielding her face; the building began to rumble. When the dust started to clear up, she found herself the only one standing. The walls were completely obliterated, the floor looked like it was barely holding her up.

“So ends the human race,” said a deep, rumbling voice.

The young woman held her sword out in front of her in two hands. Her head looked from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. There was a slight tremor in her grip. “The future is built upon the past,” the rumbling voice continued, “but your kind shall never see it.”

A large, shining red eye, stared straight at her. The eye’s owner reared its head back, revealing a massive head with six eyes. “Your mother and father are dead, tiny one,” the voice said with a low chuckle. The young woman’s hand lowered, shaken by the voice’s painful truth as the monster said something else unintelligible. “And now it is your turn… TO DIE!”

Anali took in a sharp breath of air as her eyes snapped open. She felt as cold as ice, despite the thick blanket she had herself cocooned in. It was a slight struggle to untangle herself and pull the blanket off. Anali sat up, finding Sumia, Ruby, and Elaine sound asleep.

The room the four shared was pretty standard. A cot for each of them. Each one came with a wooden locker for personal belongings and a chest for clothing. Sumia and Elaine's were pretty well lived in. And even Ruby had a few belongings with her. Anali’s was the only side of the room that was barren and lonely.

That was something Anali could worry about later, however. Right now she could feel the walls beginning to close in on her. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute, she needed to get out of here. She needed to calm down.

She pushed the blanket to the side, unaware and uncaring that it fell onto the floor. When Anali swung her legs over the edge her feet were quickly met with the slight discomfort of a cool floor. As silently as possible, Anali tip-toed across the room, careful not to wake any of her roommates, and slipped out the door. She wondered idly if she could remember the way to the mess hall. She was pretty sure she could if she wasn’t mistaken the mess hall was just around the corner.

As quietly and slowly as possible Anali walked down the darkened halls. It did occur to her that someone may mistake her intentions for something malicious. It would have been something of a stretch, however, given that Anali wore nothing but the pink nightgown Sumia lent her and her smallclothes. If she really had something vicious in mind surely Anali would have been properly dressed. Someone had to realize that, right?

A few minutes later, Anali pulled open the door to the mess hall. Her throat felt parched like she spent ages breathing in ashes on a hot day. She needed a cool drink of water, so, she fixed herself a mug of water. It felt cool and liberating against her throat as it trickled down. Was this what the earth felt like after the first rain during a dry spell?

Anali left the mess hall after she took care of the mug when she was finished. She silently left the mess hall; as soon as she rounded the corner, she came face-to-face with a slightly large man with dark hair. He wore a full suit of bulky yellow and silver armor. To Anali and her inexperience, it appeared to be quite heavy. The man had a round face and looked like he was perpetually squinting. “Oh, Anali!” the man breathed out in a slight surprise. He took a good step back for fear of making things uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you…”

She arched her brow, why was this man talking to her like he walked in on her during a bath? It was not as though she was in the middle of something like that. The question was, what was he doing out here? If his armor was anything to go by he must have been out on night watch. If anything, she was interrupting him.

Anali shook her head, "N-No. It's fine… Kellam?"

"That's me!" he beamed. "That's me… just disappearing into the background."

Anali was about to argue, she wanted to say, _‘No, I wouldn’t say that.’_ But she couldn't remember if or when Kellam was ever introduced to her. Anali knew his name, so clearly they met at some point, but she couldn't remember when.

At an utter loss for words, Anali tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. This was getting awkward. "Are you on night watch?" asked Anali. A very stupid question. Of course, Kellam was on night watch, why else would he be in the halls, alone, in full armor, in the middle of the night otherwise?

"Yeah," nodded Kellam. The pair walked alongside each other as they conversed, "The cover of night is just about perfect for bandits or Plegian's to strike while everyone's asleep. And there are also the creatures from the forest…"

Anali's brow rose, as she nodded in agreement. She supposed that they couldn't be too careful with those creatures. There was no telling what their attack patterns were, or what their goal was after all. Assuming they even had one. Hell, they didn't even know if they possessed any levels of intelligence.

"So, what about you?" Kellam asked. "I would've thought you'd be taking advantage of a soft bed after everything you've been through."

"Couldn't sleep," Anali replied instantly. It was a bit embarrassing to admit to someone that she was up because of a nightmare, no matter how vaguely she could remember it. It was pretty safe to say she wasn’t five.

"Bad dreams?" asked Kellam.

She heaved a sigh. Was it that obvious? "Yeah. I don't really remember it well enough, though. Just a bit of screaming and fires."

"Nothing else?" the dark-haired man asked.

"Everything's hazy," Anali said with a weak, tired grin, "I should be used to it by now, but…”

Kellam looked down at the floor. What an awful position for Anali to be in, for anyone to be in, really, to be unable to remember anything beyond two days ago. How empty Anali must have felt. Was it lonely to wake up in the middle of the night without any comforting memories to look back on? How frustrating it must have been to have no answers to your personal questions. Kellam did not envy Anali’s position. “Well, you know,” Kellam said after a pregnant pause, “while you're here with us, you might as well try creating new memories."

"Huh?" questioned Anali.

"Maybe you had nightmares because you're trying to remember something. Or, because you're trying to search for something to hold onto. But maybe if you make newer, happier memories with us, it will help with the nightmares."

Anali bit the inside of her cheek. That was one way of thinking about it. Anali wasn't quite sure if it would help with her dreams or not, but it did make for a comforting thought. "I haven't thought of it like that," admitted Anali. She gave Kellam a crooked smile. "However, I must point out that it's a 'time-will-tell' sort of thing. It's not like I can have one good day and everything will be okay as I sleep."

Kellan chuckled. "Well, Ylisstol wasn't built in one night."

"I suppose that is true," Anali paused for a moment. She glanced over both shoulders before her expression fell. "Erm… was I supposed to take a turn to get to my room?"

###### 

Anali planted the tip of her bronze sword into the ground to keep herself steady as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Her heart was beating so fast it was a wonder her entire skeleton wasn’t rattling in sync. Her hands were sore, they felt like they were burning, odds were they were beginning to blister. Sweat was dripping down from her brow and formed around the nape of her neck. “I’m dying…” she whined.

"You wouldn't be if you _breathed_ ," Frederick chided. "I don't know if you're doing it intentionally or not, but I've noticed that when you go to strike you either hold your breath, or your breathing is shallow. That is an excellent way to find yourself passed out. Now, if you're truly serious about this, we can't have that happening in the middle of battle.”

Frustrated, Anali rested the hilt of the sword against her forehead. As both Sully and Frederick so kindly pointed out to her earlier that morning during breakfast, Anali had a bit of magical skill, but her swordplay left much to be desired.

At the time, Anali was sitting in the mess hall, chatting with Lissa. The youngest royal had asked her how her first night in the garrison was. And then Frederick approached her, suggesting that Anali work on swordplay first thing today. "It's obvious you've no idea what to do with it," Frederick said, standing over her as she buttered her second slice of bread. "If I venture a guess, assuming you have been honest with us-"

"I have," muttered Anali.

"-you only had the sword on you in the first place hoping to scare off bandits and the like. Someone's going to need to teach you to wield it properly."

"Are you volunteering, then?" Anali asked with a perked eyebrow.

"I was simply stating-"

"Hey, that's a wonderful idea!" Lissa spoke up with great enthusiasm. The brown leather corset and her crinoline had long since been put away, leaving Lissa's headdress, yellow dress, and white apron remaining, a casual look apparently. "Who better to teach her than Chrom's second-in-command?"

"All the more reason to give the task to someone-"

"Frederick," Lissa said with an exasperated sigh and a roll of the eyes, "you already train everyone else in the Shepherds, so what's a little one-on-one?"

Which was why Frederick was teaching Anali a bit of swordplay while the others sparred off against each other. Technically they were encouraged to try their hands with different weaponry to get a feel for it should they ever need an impromptu weapon. But Frederick decided Anali needed to focus on her swordsmanship first and foremost, then the rest would follow suit.

Anali swallowed, her mouth was uncomfortably dry. She wondered how in Naga's name Frederick did it, he had to put up just as much of a fight as Anali did, if not more, yet the man hardly broke a sweat! It undoubtedly helped that he wasn't wearing his suit of armor it also made Anali wonder what they looked like to an outsider; the butler crossing blades with the new girl.

She was certain, however, that Frederick had yet to let his guard down when he was around Anali. The constant 'what if' was hanging over his head, she was sure. She could have been the little Plegian spy out to get the Exalt and her family with a sympathetic amnesia ploy. Frederick's concerns were nothing short of understandable, and Anali should expect nothing less from a man who took his job as seriously as he did. She just hated the situation. No one here actually knew Anali before she lost her memory, so there was no way to prove that she wasn't lying.

"While your form needs work and you need to work on your breathing, I do say you've got the making of a decent swordsman," said Frederick.

Anali raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she failed to see how. Everything Anali did seemed wrong to her. The way she held her sword felt uncomfortable and wrong, her thrust seemed awkward, her stances felt wrong. Of course, Frederick knew more about all of this than Anali did, so maybe she was just overthinking things.

On the other hand, there had to be a catch to Frederick’s compliment, he did not seem like the kind of man to just hand out free compliments without a bit of constructive criticism.

During their second round, Anali found her sword hand cramping, the skin was as tender as ever. If Anali did not feel like she was holding the hilt wrong before, she felt like she was now when she couldn’t find a grip without her hand stinging.

Another half-hour passed before Frederick dismissed her for the day. Anali sat on the grass in the training field, trying to massage her stiff, sore hands. "Here."

Startled, she whipped around to find Stahl wearing a black shirt and grey slacks, offering her a round tin. Curious, she took it into her hand and studied it. "Salve?" she asked.

"Homemade, too."

Silently, Anali removed the lid and dabbed two fingers into the ointment, gathering a bit onto the tips. She applied the salve onto the opposite hand; it felt cool against her warm skin with a slight tingle. When she finished applying it on both hands Anali handed the tin back to Stahl, who held a hand up. "You keep it," he insisted, "my family sends me plenty."

"Oh, thank you," smiled Anali. She studied the tin again. "Did they make it for you?"

Lowering himself down beside her, Stahl nodded. "My father runs an apocathary shop," he explained, "the salves are something of a specialty of his."

"Oh. Were you ever an apprentice, then?"

"I dabbled a bit," shrugged Stahl. Thinking about it now, a few years after he left home, he was beginning to feel a slight sense of nostalgia. "Just enough to make a couple of tonics and salves. Not enough to have them contribute much, but…"

"Sounds like you and your family are kind of close though," said Anali. He looked up at her with an arched brow. Flinching, Anali's hair nearly stood up on end. "Sorry, should I not have… I-It just sounded like… I-I mean they send you healing ointments, so…"

Despite his shuttering shoulders, Stahl tried not to burst out laughing at that moment. Anali could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up. Okay her little outburst was kind of funny, but still! "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stahl said, calming down a little. "I shouldn't have…"

Stahl knew full well that he should not have been laughing at her, Anali looked so embarrassed, her eyes narrowed, glancing down at the grass, with a pink blush on her cheeks. But it was kind of funny, in a cute way. Anali wanted to say the right things, to make a good impression, but when she acted like that, she was trying too hard. It made Stahl wonder what her life before Chrom and Lissa found her was like.

Judging from her need to impresses, Stahl would venture to guess Anali didn’t have much in terms of friends before all of this. Which was why he really shouldn’t have been laughing at her like that.

The Shepherds learned about Anali’s amnesia shortly after Vaike stormed out. Stahl, Ricken, Elaine, and Sumia were trying to get to know her, just trying to be friendly. They had asked her some pretty basic things. Where she came from. What her family was like. If she had any siblings, and other innocent topics of small-talk. Anali had no answers and she tried desperately to find something; Stahl knew right then that something was wrong. And then Anali looked like she would start crying…

Lissa quickly explained what she knew to them. How they found Anali in the field, and how Anali could not remember anything from before. Whether or not everyone believed her was an entirely different story. From Stahl’s perspective, some believed Anali’s story and those who didn’t, like Frederick and Phila. And then some hardly appeared to care, like Vaike and Maribelle.

Shaking her head Anali let out a very weak chuckle. "I think my experience with other people has been rather limited," she said. Anali ran her fingers through her bangs, then pushed them back out of her eyes.

"I wouldn't say that," Stahl insisted, even though he had the same thought. "I'm sure it's just… Uhm…"

"Amnesia can only justify so much, Stahl," sighed Anali, "some of my shortcomings have to be my own regardless, and this one feels like such."

"Well… Yeah, but it seemed rude to say it out loud." Anali smiled at that. "But," said Stahl, "to answer your question, yes, I'd like to think my family and I are close. My parents send me a bit of salve every so often, and my brother is always sending me a stomach tonic-"

"Oh, you've got a brother?" Anali asked, hugging her knees close to her. Her eyes sparkled with an interest that told Stahl it was okay to talk to her about this.

"Yeah, just one, though," the olive haired man said, "he took up our father's trade. I imagine he could brew up more than I ever could by now."

"I don't know. I'm sure you could whip up something fierce."

Stahl had to laugh. "Well, my stomach tonic is known for curing tummy aches in fifteen minutes."

“So I should go to you then if something’s not agreeing with me.”

“I mean, you could. But I also don’t think I need that kind of pressure.”

Anali smiled, beginning to feel a little at ease around Stahl. As she had observed the day before it was really easy to like him. He appeared to be a young man who already knew his own strengths and weaknesses and he was perfectly okay with it. He was a man who was comfortable in his own skin. It felt oddly refreshing to meet someone like that. "Anyway, I wouldn't worry too much about it," Stahl said, almost randomly.

"Huh?" Anali's brow arched.

"Your sword work, I mean. No one who picks up a sword masters it on the first try. Give it a little time and practice, and I'm sure you'll build your skill up."

She nodded, murmuring, "Okay."

Running a hand through his hair, Stahl clicked his tongue. "So, have you made yourself at home, yet?"

Anali's face twisted as she struggled to find the right words. "Kind of," she said, "I mean my side of the room is looking pretty empty and I'm still meeting everyone in the garrison."

Wait, did that make her sound ungrateful?

"It can be a little hard at first," Stahl admitted. "When I first became a Shepherd, I certainly felt like a small fish in a big pond."

"But did you get glares and whispers because of the foreign garb you wore?" Anali asked pulling at a blade of grass.

Stahl had to wince. Of course, there were some whispers from the soldiers about Anali since she first arrived. The coat she wore yesterday was the tell-all sign of her Plegian origin. And then there was the Mark of Grima on her hand. It was not all that surprising that some were beginning  
to question Chrom and Lady Emmeryn's judgment.

The white-haired girl shook her head, mentally berating herself. "Sorry, that wasn't…" her voice trailed off, "I shouldn't have… That was a little…"

"Why not?" asked Stahl in return. He leaned back so he could look at the sky, his hands were firmly planted on the ground to keep him from toppling over. "If we're going to get this budding friendship off the ground, we need to start sharing our problems and concerns."

Stahl could see it in Anali's face that she understood, but the situation was just lousy. There was no way to prove that she had been honest, or that her intentions were good. In the end, Anali would have to earn the trust of those who doubted her the old fashioned way…the hard way.

"Anali!" Sumia called. She approached the pair in a half-jog. She managed to get out a brief yelp when she tripped just a mere few feet away from her destination.

Wide-eyed and mouth hanging open Anali pulled herself to her knees. She reached a hand out for Sumia, offering a hand up, but the young woman pulled herself onto her knees in the blink of an eye. "I'm fine!" she said all too quickly with a slight crack in her voice. Slowly, Sumia pulled herself onto her feet and took a few deep breaths in. "A-Anyway, Anali, Lissa suggested that we go out to the market in a little while. To… well, get you some clothes, effects, and help you get settled in."

Anali eyed the tunic she wore, it was a bit big on her. To the point where she needed a belt around her waist to keep the excess fabric from flapping about and exposing her bosom. It was another article borrowed from the stuff to be donated.

"When do we go?" asked Anali.

"As soon as Lissa, Maribelle, and Ruby are ready," replied Sumia.

They left the garrison twenty minutes later, Sumia had asked Elaine, Miriel, and Sully if they wanted to come along. Elaine politely said no as the infirmary was a little short-handed as of late due to one of her coworker’s children being sick. Miriel was quick to refuse, all while showing off her vast, impressive vocabulary. And then there was Sully, who initially responded with a _‘Hell no!’_ Then added a far more friendly, “Hey, you know me. I just get what I need and go. You’re better off without me making things miserable.”

As the group left the garrison, Sumia let out a rueful sigh. “I know shopping isn’t exactly Sully’s cup of tea,” she said, “but I thought she would have at least liked to be included.”

“Twas an admirable thought, darling,” Maribelle said. She had opened her white and pink parasol and kept it rested against her shoulder to block out the sun. “And I’m sure Sully is grateful for the offer if nothing else.”

A bright smile soon played upon Sumia’s lips. “Yeah! I suppose your right!”

“Of course I am, dear.”

It was Maribelle’s usage of ‘dear’ that made Anali stare at the girl. She had to be younger than Sumia; the same age as Lissa if Anali had to guess. There was something odd about someone calling someone older than them ‘dear.’ Then again, Maribelle did carry herself like a noble’s daughter, Sumia carried herself like… Not quite a noble’s daughter, but she didn’t carry herself as a commoner either. Someone from old money, perhaps.

As they came to the gate, Lissa took off running ahead of them, hollering something Anali couldn’t quite make out at first. She stopped at the gate in front of a broad man with wavy pink hair. His face was scarred and he had a patch over his right eye. “Oh, hello Tybalt,” Maribelle greeted as the others approached him. “I didn’t realize you would be here. Lord Escalus readying you for dukedom?”

Tybalt scoffed. “No, I just have to fly the bastard around for him. He’s not going to give up his title without a fight.” His good eye scanned the small group when his gaze fell upon Anali, he pointed a finger at her. “And you must be the famous Anali, right? I’m Tybalt of House Duir.”

Anali could only blink dumbly. “Tybalt’s father holds the title of Duke,” Sumia said in a stage whisper. “Lord Escalus should have been at the council meeting held yesterday.”

Anali gasped, “Oh! Please, forgive my rudeness, Sir-”

“No, no,” Tybalt cut her off. “None of that ‘Sir,’ or ‘Lord’ stuff. Do I honestly look like any of that?”

He gestured to his face, his scars weren’t exactly something that could be easily missed. One went from just below his hairline to his upper lip. And that wasn’t taking the obvious eye patch into account. Anali didn’t answer one way or the other. “So, what are you ladies up to?” asked Tybalt.

“We’re helping Anali get settled,” Lissa explained, “she has so little with her, so…y’know.”

“I do know,” Tybalt gestured past the gate. “Don’t let me keep you.”

###### 

“Hey,” Ruby said, elbowing Anali’s arm. Her head was list to the side to better whisper into her ear, “We gotta look like quite a group, huh?”

“What’d you mean?”

“Come on, Ana!”

“Ana?!”

“You and me, we’re not exactly well-to-do. And yet, here we are, shopping with not one, but three noble girls. We look like the opening to a bad joke; ‘Three nobles, a thief, and an amnesiac walk into a bar…’”

Anali’s head turned from side to side as soon as Ruby said that. Just when it seemed like she was beginning to throw caution to the wind and her shyness was getting better, she found herself retreating back into her shell. Everyone was staring again, they could just smell the Plegian in her. The outsider, the obvious spy. Why on Naga’s green earth was she even here? What were the royal family thinking of letting her into Ylisstol?

With her head down, Anali kept close behind Sumia as they entered the market district. She kept her shoulders hunched and her hands balled close to her chest in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. Her hands were currently being covered by a pair of riding gloves Sumia found for her to borrow. While Anali appreciated the gesture, now that Anali was wearing them, she hoped to find something a bit better in the market. The gloves made picking things up, and simply wearing the damn things felt awkward. She was afraid she would drop her tome or sword if she were to go into battle in these things.

Abruptly, Maribelle came to a stop and turned to look Anali over. “First thing is first, I say we find the lady some garments. Practically speaking, she’s going to come across a few problems if she continues as is. And…” she gestured to Anali’s person, “she simply cannot pull off the ‘lets-just-throw-on-whatever-is-lying-around’ look. Granted, very few can, but there is a reason their original owners dismissed them.”

“I mean…you’re not exactly wrong,” Ruby said with a slight shrug of her shoulder. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Not necessarily because it’s not fashionable. But still not exactly wrong.”

“All right, then!” Lissa beamed brightly. “Let’s go… This way!”

The blonde princess grabbed Anali by the arm and pulled her down the road to a shop southeast in the market district. Outside the shop was a couple of displays of lovely summer day dresses. A bell tinkled overhead as the girls entered the shop; a woman knelt on the floor beside a mannequin, she was working diligently on the hem of a short-sleeved, white and pink dress with fabric flowers sewn to the sleeves. The woman, who looked old enough to be their grandmother, looked up to find the five. Instantly, she removed the pins from her mouth and rose to her feet. “Milady,” the woman greeted, “good afternoon. Wonderful to see you again. Lady Alder, Lady Rebeck, a pleasure to see you both again as well. Oh, are those some new faces I see? How can we help you today?”

"Marina please," Sumia smiled with a light blush on her cheeks, "there's no need to be so formal."

"Well, with her, you don't," Maribelle added curtly.

"Marina, this is Anali and this is Ruby," Lissa said, locking arms with the girls in question. While Ruby gave Marina a non-verbal greeting, Anali could feel her face beginning to heat up again. She tried to hide in the collar of her tunic, but sadly the collar was too low for the effect she wanted. "They’re our newest Shepherds. However, Anali here needs a new wardrobe, so we were just wondering if there was anything here?"

Marina looked at the young woman with white hair over once. "Anali, yes?" she asked. "Is there any preference you have?"

"Functional," said Anali. "Something that's easy to move around in. I don't want to go tripping over my own hemline."

"Yes, yes," Maribelle said, waving her hand in small circular motions. "Functions are good to have in this line of work, but you should also be presentable. If you ever go out on a march, you will be representing Ylisse's finest. We can't have you looking like-like-like some… eh… what's a nicer word than 'tramp?'"

_Gee, thanks…_ thought Anali.

But, she had to admit that Maribelle did have a point. She couldn’t very well go to neighboring realms wearing nothing but rags.

“Now, a lady’s clothes should tell the world something about themselves,” Maribelle prattled on, she used several hand gestures as she spoke. “They should say 'I am a proud Ylissean, but I'm also…'" The girl in pink tapped Anali on the top of her head with her parasol. "Now, Anali, think. What should your clothes say about you?"

"'I'm not naked,'" Anali said dully in response.

Both Lissa and Ruby broke out into howling laughter, Lissa’s far more snorty than Ruby’s. But the two were bent over double, Ruby gripping her midsection with one arm while her other hand was plastered over her mouth. Lissa was actually crying from laughter. Sumia, on the other hand, was, thankfully, making more of an effort to keep herself under control. But even then, her shoulders were visibly shaking. Maribelle’s jaw dropped open slightly as she stared at Anali. Had Anali truly just said such a thing out loud like that… in public?!

“What else are clothes _supposed_ to say?” Anali asked incredulously.

“How about ‘I’m an enigma?’” offered Sumia. Her face flushed as she tried to avoid eye contact with Anali. “All things considered…it is kind of appropriate.”

Anali nodded absently. She did not know much about herself, so she did not know what her clothes should 'say' about her. The concept of clothes 'saying' something about the person wearing them seemed utterly stupid. As long as she was presentable, the clothes were functional and comfortable, and Anali was not parading around naked, she was pretty okay with anything.

Why did it suddenly seem like getting clothes was much harder than Anali originally thought?

"Perhaps something dark then?" Marina suggested. She looked Anali over again. "Yes, something dark would make for a lovely contrast with your hair.” Marina looked over her shoulder then called out, "Portia!"

Obediently, a young woman with auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail was at Marina's side. "Yes, ma'am?" asked Portia.

"I want you to take Lady Anali's measurements and help her find garments fitting her criteria."

With a murmured yes, Portia gestured for Anali to follow her. She did, if not a bit hesitantly, and even then she needed a good push from Lissa. Portia measured Anali’s bust, waist, and collar.

Anali knew it was necessary, but she felt so uncomfortable having someone that close to her face. When the process was done, much to Anali’s relief, Portia lead her to a collection of pre-made garments in Anali’s size and showed her to a changing stall in the back of the shop.

Lissa was the one providing money for everything despite Anali’s protest. Anali insisted that the royals had done more than enough for her already. Surely she could have waited a few weeks and save up her own weekly pay. She could have waited a few more weeks to shop for her clothes and effects, but her protest had fallen upon deaf ears. Anali did not like this, the constant taking from Chrom and Lissa with no giving on her part. It made her feel like she owed them something in return.

While Anali looked through the garments she had Sumia’s input, which was a real help. Maribelle and Ruby largely did their own thing, which was browsing the pre-made garments. Anali found a tunic she liked the most and would have worked really well as a replacement tunic for the outfit she was found in. Anali just was not comfortable wearing the original tunic; it was too loose for her comfort. Why was she even wearing it, to begin with?

She found a few casual outfits for the approaching summer weather, she decided she would buy seasonal clothing later. And then there was the dress Sumia really pushed for Anali to buy. Anali did like it, the color, the simplicity, the color. She really liked the color.

But then she saw the price. “That is two suns too many,” Anali said in a hushed tone. “What on earth would I need this for anyway?”

With her eyes rolling skyward, Sumia grit her teeth slightly. “Uh-off the top of my head…I have no idea,” she admitted at length. “But…still! Wouldn’t it be nice to know you have a nice dress if you ever find yourself attending a formal occasion?” She clapped her hands twice, a girlish, giddy grin playing upon her lips. “Or, perhaps when you’re faced with a whole line of suitors!”

Anali thought her face was about to melt off, it was getting so warm. Suitors?! Who said anything about suitors?! It was only her second day! She wasn’t ready for this kind of girl talk! “I-I-I-Should work on getting comfortable in my own skin before I start thinking about romance and courtship!” She held her gloved hands up in protest. “B-b-besides. What do a need a line of suitors for?! Don’t most people just want one?”

"Hmm, I suppose," Sumia nodded absently. She pulled another dress off the rack. "Yeah, I guess a line of suitors is a bit much. Just one will do, given it's the right one."

Anali understood that Sumia was simply being friendly with a little girl talk as though Anali wasn't wandering around with a head as empty as a flower pot. And she really did appreciate it. But Anali could hardly tell a person what she liked or disliked, or even where she saw herself a few years down the road. Let alone where she saw herself next week. Anali needed to get to know herself first before she could even think of getting to know a potential suitor.

"How about this?" Sumia held the dress up in front of her. It was rose and dusty pink with sheer half-sleeves and a sheer trail. "I'll buy this if you buy that."

"Or you could just buy it regardless of what I buy?" Anali suggested with a weak grin.

"Aw! Where's the fun in that?"

Somehow, in the end, they bought the dresses, and the ladies left the shop. Each of them making some form of purchase. Anali bought enough casual clothes to last her a week, a spare for her laundry days, her own nightwear, the tunic, and the dress. Anali hugged her collection of parcels close to her chest as Sumia listed off a few more things Anali would need. "Should we even bother with effects right now?" she asked Lissa.

"Of course," said Lissa, "we want Anali to be ready when Chrom asks her to march."

"Huh? But Lissa, Anali just came in yesterday."

"And my swordplay still needs work," added Anali.

“At least get a chain mail shirt if that coat is what you’re wearing on a march,” suggested Ruby. “I mean, it’s something.”

“We can probably save that for last,” said Maribelle. “I’m sure it will be a hassle to carry it around the market. Is there anything else?”

“Erm…” Anali’s brow perked up. “I could use more magic tomes. The one I had on me is beginning to run low on pages.”

“Tomes?” repeated Maribelle. She used the tip of her parasol to point at a small tent a few yards away. “That looks like a Secret Seller’s tent. They usually have tomes on them.”

“Aw, yeah!” Ruby clapped her hands together. “Love looking through a Secret Seller’s wears!”

“Secret Sellers?” Anali inquired.

“They're a family of merchants,” Ruby explained as they approached the tent. “By traveling across the globe and trading amongst themselves, they have some of the rarest items in Ylisse.”

“Wait, hold on, before we even set foot in there,” said Lissa.

She walked off to a lone vendor on a frazzled blanket. The vendor was a teenaged girl in tattered clothes and a dirtied face. Her dark hair was matted and she looked a little on the thin side, as Anali had been. She was surrounded by reed baskets of varying sizes and styles. “Hey there,” the princes greeted warmly. Took three baskets with handles into her arms. “I’ll buy these, okay.”

“O-O-Okay,” the girl stuttered.

“This should cover it, right?” Lissa asked, handing the girl a coin purse.

“Uh… B-B-But… this is t-t-too-”

“I think it’s just right. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl struggled to meet Lissa’s eye, as she gave the girl a sunny smile. With baskets in hand, Lissa skipped back over to Anali, dropping her parcels in one of the baskets.

Maribelle lead the way into the tent and held the flap open for Lissa and the other girls to walk in. She kept her closed parasol up against her shoulder as she looked through the wears passively. Until that is, she spotted a display of fans and unfolded one of them. She was greeted with pastel flowers and green leaves against a gold background. “Must be Valmese,” Maribelle murmured to herself. “Chon’sin specifically. Looks quite expensive.”

"Oh, it was. I had to trade a whole case of sweet tincture to one of my sisters for this one."

A woman with dark red hair poked her head up from the cases of elixir she was stacking. Her long, red hair was pulled back into a side ponytail, and she wore very comfortable clothing, fit for travel, in earthy colors. "Anything I can help you ladies with?" asked the merchant.

"We wanted to see if you were carrying any tomes," said Sumia.

"Right over there," the merchant pointed at a large crate filled with books with spines of light green, yellow, and red. "Hot off the press."

Crouching down in front of the crate, Anali slowly ran her finger down one of the spines until she picked up a couple of yellow Thunder tomes. "Do the mages usually specialize in one element?" Anali asked, taking two tomes into her arms.

Lissa thought about it for a moment, her face twisted as she thought. "I can't say it's unheard of," she said, "but there is a bit of convenience of using Wind and Fire. You'd have to ask Miriel or Ricken, they would know more about magic than any of us here."

"Oh, this is quaint," Sumia said while beaming. She stood in front of one of the tables, littered with items from across the world.

The bauble Sumia was looking at was a peculiar doll that popped open from its middle. Inside there was another little doll painted slightly differently, and inside was another, and another, until there was a teeny tiny thing inside. The hollow dolls were all beautifully painted to resemble an old woman, as you opened one doll to reveal another the woman got younger and younger, the smallest being a baby.

"That would be a nesting doll from Regna Ferox," the merchant explained. "Quite the conversation piece if you ask me."

“Isn’t it?” Ruby said eyeing the nesting doll.

“Oh, but I don’t have any space for it!” Sumia cried ruefully over Ruby’s barking laughter.

“It’s because of all of your books, darling,” quipped Maribelle.

With pale lips pursed, Ruby picked up a sheathed dagger with blue-green gems encrusted into the hilt. She took the price tag between her fingers. “Whoa,” exhaled Ruby. “I was expecting much more.”

Immediately, her hand went into the money pouch at her waist. “Oh, dear,” Maribelle sighed, gesturing to Anali, who was looking at a collection of books the merchant had. "And it looks like Anali hear is headed down the same path as our dear Sumia."

"What? N-no!" Anali straightened up. "I-I just like to read, is all… At-at least, I think I do. I-I mean-"

"I was just making a joke," sighed Maribelle, her tone utterly droll and bored, "you don't need to defend your actions, especially if they're harmless."

"S-sorry…" Anali said, trying to shrink once more.

Sighing through her nose, Maribelle turned towards the merchant, holding up the fan she found. "I suppose I'll be taking this, my good ma'am."

"Ooh, good choice! That'll be five moons."

"Five?!" the blonde young woman repeated. Regardless she fished out five silver coins from her purse.

"Excuse me," Anali spoke up. She carried an object, a little bigger than her palm, with several holes in it, and a mouthpiece sticking out. "Can you tell me what this is? I think I've seen something like it before, but the name escapes me."

The merchant held her hand out to Anali, she placed the object into the merchant’s waiting palm. The red-haired woman studied it for a moment. "Oh, yes, of course!" she said to herself. "It's an ocarina. It's a kind of flute." She pointed to the mouthpiece. "Obviously you put your mouth here, blow, and cover these little holes to make music."

"It looks familiar," Anali said, taking the instrument back.

"Maybe you've played, then?" suggested Sumia.

Anali removed the glove from her left hand to get a better feel for the instrument. It did feel familiar in her hand. So maybe Sumia was onto something. "I guess I'll take this, too," Anali said, placing the ocarina on top of the yellow tomes.

###### 

Night at the garrison was quite still, a few soldiers were stationed inside and outside to keep watch. By the time Chrom found a few minutes in the day to visit, he was sure most of the inhabitants were sound asleep, so this may have been pointless. But, the way he saw it, he owed it to Anali to see how her first real day there was.

By offering her a position in the Shepherds there was a very high chance that Anali would be dragged into the battles that were sure to come. But if things continued the way they had been this year, a war would surely come by the year's end. He could not blame her if the first thing she wanted to do was find herself. While Anali did have a choice whether or not she wanted to stay or leave, what choice did she have? Really, where could a woman without any knowledge of herself go?

The last Chrom heard of Anali, she and the other new girl, Ruby, were bunking with Sumia and Elaine. That made Chrom smile a bit. If there was anyone to make Anali feel at home, it would be Elaine and Sumia.

Now, where did they sleep again? Oh, right.

He approached the door where, on the other side, Chrom could hear giggles and… music? Yes, music that was…flute-like? Not quite but close enough. The tune itself was quite breezy, bubbly even, it was a tune that easily conjured the image of children frolicking in the meadow. The song ended with a deep inhale from the musician. "Wow, Anali," he heard Elaine say as she clapped her hands. "I had no idea you could play."

"Neither did I," said Anali. "I'm not even sure where I heard that song. It just sort of came to me."

"Then it'd stand to reason that you've played it plenty of times before you came here, yes?" asked Sumia. "This has to be a good sign, then!"

"Yeah, I guess…" Anali said though she didn't sound convinced. And Chrom decided now was the time to make his presence known.

He opened the door. "Ladies," said Chrom. "Don't mind me, I was just wondering if - Oh, gods, I'm sorry!"

All four of them were dressed in their nightgowns. Which Chrom supposed was appropriate enough, it was night, it was a time when people generally prepared for bed. Sumia immediately squealed and hid her face behind a pillow. Chrom, on the other hand, closed the door slightly and used his opposite hand to shield his eyes. “Oh, gods,” moaned Ruby. “Does no one get out at all?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chrom repeated. “I was just… That is to say… Can I speak with you, Anali?”

"Oh, sure," the white-haired woman said. He heard her shift in her cot. She opened the door, and stepped out, still wearing her dark nightgown. "Is something wrong?"

She looked different than when Chrom had last seen her, healthier, well-rested. "Nothing's wrong," Chrom assured her. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Anali smiled. "I'm doing fine so far," she said. "Training this morning wasn't quite what I was expecting, but then again, I really didn't know what I was expecting."

"Yeah, Frederick can be a bit hard on new recruits," chuckled Chrom.

"But I think I can survive," said Anali. "I'm… relieved that I have some sort of direction, I suppose. If anyone else had found me-"

"It's probably best not to think about what could have been," Chrom cut her off. "Think about the now, and I'm sure everything else will fall into place."

There was probably something better Chrom could have said to her if he wanted to be encouraging. Words, particularly when it came to heart-to-hearts like this, were never Chrom's strongest suits, that was Emmeryn's expertise. And, he was sure, the last thing Anali needed was to be reminded of her lack of memories. But what else could he say to something like that?

Anali just nodded in response. "Thank you, though," said Anali, she began to fiddle with her fingers, her gaze was locked on the floor. "I know you just said not to think about it, but I doubt I'd have this sort of security if anyone else had found me."

"You don't need to thank me Anali. It was a pleasure to help."

"Even if they were right?" Anali asked in reply. "Even if I really was planning to kill your sister, or even you?"

"Well I would hope that's not the case," laughed Chrom.

"I'm serious!" snapped Anali. "What if Frederick or Vaike are right about me?"

Vaike, of course. As far as he knew, Vaike did have a bit of an outburst when he met Anali. Chrom understood why, but it seemed out of character for him. "But they're not," Chrom replied.

Anali let out a dry laugh, unsure of whether or not it was out of the absurdity of Chrom's words. "Let's…" Anali thought for a moment, then shook her head again. "Let's hope you can recognize danger when you see it, then."

"Well," the prince couldn't help but smirk. "Despite popular belief amongst the Shepherds, I'm not that oblivious."

Of course, he had been wrong before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruby’s nickname for Anali, Ana, is supposed to be pronounced like ‘ah-na,’ like the Disney queen. 
> 
> Originally Tybalt was never even hinted at until some time after Gangrel’s death. So he kind of came out of nowhere. Sadly, we will have to wait a while until Falkor appears.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five  
Sickle to Sword**

Three weeks after she was brought to the garrison, Anali could notice a change in her person. She was filling out; it was no longer so easy for her to count her ribs. She could still feel them but they no longer felt like there was just a thin layer of skin over them.

Within days, Anali entered a routine; mornings were started with a warm-up of stretches and a run around the training yard. Then came sword work with Frederick. And then, just before, or after, lunch Anali would try her hand on other weaponry with Stahl and Kellam. If she could help it, Anali tried to squeeze a bit of magic practice with Ricken and Miriel. Her afternoons were spent here and there, either in the stables chatting with Sumia while she cared for the horses and pegasi, or reading in the library or her quarters.

In the library she would read up on magic and battle strategy, figuring she and the others could stay alive if she understood battle flow. That, and there was the fact that Anali found past war strategies to be very fascinating. Battles that were won against all odds were her favorite.

At supper, Anali would spend time with various members with the Shepherds. Ones that would allow her at the very least. Vaike usually got up from the table if she sat down. There were a few glances she received from soldiers she never met, whispers that followed her. Sumia, Lissa, or Ricken were usually the first to divert Anali away from them before she could dwell on it.

Eventually, she met with Elaine and her friend Regan. Regan was a sixteen-year-old trainee in the Pegasus Knights. The girl had a petite built with red-gold hair that was cut in a pageboy style. “Fraike?” Regan asked with a mouth full of potato. She took a moment to swallow. “What about him?”

“He was one of the most vocal about Anali when she arrived,” explained Elaine. “Phila and Frederick both have their reservations, but they’ve been mostly quiet…if not more cautious.”

“Oh, right, I noticed that.”

“Um…?” uttered Anali.

Elaine’s cheeks flushed as soon as she realized they were being somewhat rude. “Oh, right,” Regan said waving a hand lazily. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Vaike. He was one of those orphaned by the war. Of course, he has a bone to pick with Plegian’s.”

“That’s ignoring the fact that the war wouldn’t have happened in the first place were it not for Exalt Calhoun,” Elaine argued in a staged whisper.

“Wait a minute,” Anali spoke up. “ _Ylisse_ provoke the war?” 

That was… not what she was expecting. With Plegia the one trying to provoke something this time around, Anali would have thought… But that was a rather simplistic notion. There were two realms involved, of course, Ylisse could have had its own wrongdoings in the war.

Both girls nodded in response. “It was Exalt Calhoun’s war through and through,” Regan explained. “But damn if anyone could tell you what the purpose behind it actually was. Their resources, their gold? Or could Calhoun just not stand living in the same world as the Grimleal?”

It gave Anali something to think about that night. It was like she was between a rock and a hard place. Plegia was rightfully angry if Ylisse truly instigated the war. But their methods of retaliation was wrong, plain and simple. Something that would sow the seeds for a cycle. So how was Anali supposed to show Ylisstol that she meant no harm with this in mind?

On one particular morning, Frederick had Anali train, not with himself, but with Stahl. It did not take them long before they started colliding swords. Anali made sure she did not stay in one spot for too long. That was something Frederick drilled into her (besides ‘breathe, woman, breathe!’); don’t stop moving. “What you lack in strength,” Frederick told her, “you make up for in speed. You’re clever enough to use that to your advantage, are you not?”

“I’d like to think so,” Anali replied in a murmur. Of course, that had yet to be seen as it did not quite matter who won or lost in a sparring match.

Anali kept her feet moving; she kept her eyes locked on the young man in an attempt to find the flaw in his style. He had the skill under his belt and he outclassed Anali in size, so she wasn’t going to win this with brute strength alone. While the only time she had seen Stahl battle was in similar matches amongst other Shepherds, he explained that in a proper battle Stahl would be mounted on his horse. And in a full suit of armor, not unlike what Frederick or Sully wore.

So, in a proper battle Stahl would have a height advantage against someone on foot. His midsection must have been well protected with his armor on…

_Got it._

She tightened her grip on her sword and thrust herself forward. The sword collided with Stahl’s, who immediately blocked. He countered attacked with a downward strike. Anali dodged by throwing herself to the side. She nearly fell over with such a force, but thankfully caught herself. She threw her arm forward, right towards Stahl’s midsection. He turned and swung his sword, aimed at Anali’s side.

Anali blocked but did not put enough space between hers and Stahl’s sword hands. Her forefinger ended up getting nicked. The blow stung and was maybe even bleeding, but Anali would put some vulnerary on it later. She pushed the opposing blade away from her, then swung towards at Stahl’s side.

Things were beginning to pick up; Anali was no longer playing on the defense, she was fighting back with vigor. Blades sailed through the air, then collided with an audible clink. She lifted her sword for a downward strike. Stahl prepared to block. At the last second, Anali changed her sword's path. She took a step back to give herself more space, then she thrust her sword forward, stopping just inches away from Stahl’s solar plexus; had this been a real fight, he would have been skewered right then. “I believe that counts as a yield,” said Frederick. He approached the pair with his arms folded behind his back. “I must admit, once again Anali, your improvement is remarkable.”

“Thank you…” panted Anali. She sheathed her sword before wiping her brow. She knew to take the compliments whenever Frederick gave them. Perhaps it was a sign that things were starting to improve between them.

“However, you need to work on your blocking, lest you lose a finger. And for gods sake, stop holding your breath before you pass out in the middle of battle.”

Easy come easy go…

“Come on, Frederick,” said Stahl. “Anali didn’t do that bad for someone who only had three weeks t-”

“You!” Frederick’s attention turned to Stahl. “You could do to watch your midsection with your armor on. That was how Anali got the better of you. Just because you’re mounted and armored does not give you the excuse to be careless.”

Chuckling weakly, Stahl rubbed the back of his neck. “Stern as always, Frederick,” sighed Anali.

“Quite so.” Chrom approached three and crossed his arms when he stopped. “In all the years I’ve known him, Frederick only smiles when he’s about to bring down the axe.”

“Milord,” greeted Frederick, “is there something-”

“Am I suddenly not allowed to drop in to see the militia I lead?”

“Of course not, milord, that’s not to imply-”

Frederick was cut off abruptly by the half-hidden snickering from Stahl and Anali. The two turned towards each other, Anali with her hand balled up in front of her mouth hiding her grin. And Stahl, on the other hand, had a tooth-bearing, lopsided grin.

The older man cleared his throat, immediately the two straightened themselves up, spines as stiff as boards. The picture of respectful attentiveness. “Well, as you can see, these two could stand to fetch a couple of water buckets each,” Frederick said coolly, and Anali was nearly floored.

Standing still for ten minutes while holding a bucket of water in each hand was a favorite punishment of Frederick’s. However, to date, Anali only saw it ever happen to Vaike; he had a bit of a habit of forgetting his weapon. Of course, that wasn’t to say it was just a means of discipline, the buckets were heavy, therefore a great heavy lifting exercise for Frederick’s Fanatical Fitness Hour; giving ‘fanatical’ a whole new meaning.

Which could almost be the slogan.

“Come now, Frederick,” teased Chrom. “Wasn’t I just hearing you compliment Anali’s improvement?”

“Yes, you were, milord. But she is nowhere near ready to take on a master swordsman.”

“Well, not with strength alone,” Stahl pointed out. “Give her a minute to size up her opponent and Anali’s sure to tip the scales in her favor.”

Anali chuckled weakly as she rubbed the back of her neck. She could feel her cheeks turning pink and looked down in an attempt to hide it. “I needed more than a minute with you,” she murmured.

Chrom laughed. “That may be, but you’re still quick to turn things around. That’s still impressive.”

“Are you sure you haven’t studied this before, Anali?” asked Stahl.

She shrugged. “A couple of times I’ve seen or done something that felt familiar,” explained Anali. “Like my ocarina. But I’ve never experienced anything like that with a sword.”

“Still, three weeks and you’re besting someone who’s done this for a few years is no easy feat.”

“At this rate, Anali,” said Chrom, “you’ll be fighting beside us for Ylisse.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves!” She held her hands up and slunk back a step. “There hasn’t been any trouble since I was first brought in! So there’s no telling if-”

As if on cue someone called, “Milord! Sir Frederick!”

It was Elaine, her green skirts balled up in her hands as she ran. Skidding to a stop, she bent over double, hands on her knees panting. Swallowing, she stood up and gripped her apron. “Lady Phila received a messenger hawk from the Farfort,” she explained, “she wishes to discuss it with the both of you. That’s all I know.”

“All right, thank you, Elaine,” Frederick said with a nod. “Milord-”

“I know, Frederick,” said Chrom. He turned back to Anali. “I suppose we’ll discuss your progress a little later, then.”

“Guess so,” she said. When both Chrom and Frederick were out of earshot, she turned to Stahl and Elaine, then asked, “What’s the Farfort?”

“A farming village in the southeast,” Stahl explained. He seated himself onto the ground beside Elaine. “Exalt Calhoun had it built about fifteen years ago for other purposes, but by the time it was finished, it was no longer needed.”

“But it was built on a prime spot for agriculture and livestock. So…” Elaine shrugged. “Farmers it is. I’ve never been there myself, but I hear it’s a pretty quiet place. I can’t imagine what’s happened there.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing too bad,” murmured Anali.

“I don’t know,” sighed Stahl. He leaned his head back and kept his hands planted firmly on the ground to keep himself from toppling over. “See, it’s on a small island a few miles away from the mainlands. The messenger hawk wouldn’t be sent unless it was an emergency.”

Anali peered up at the palace with a furrowed brow. Since she arrived at the garrison they had a name for the creatures that attacked them; Risen. There was still plenty about them that they did not know. Many rumors about them filled Ylisstol’s daily gossip; one bite and you became a mindless creature like them, they attacked in packs, they attacked alone, they could send signals to each other with their minds. The list went on and there was no proof one way or the other.

If there were problems in the Farfort, just going by what Anali was now finding out about this place, Risen seemed appeared to be the most likely candidate.

As the next couple of hours ticked by Anali heard several rumors about what had happened in the Farfort; Risen, bandits, Plegian’s and the like. There was no confirmation until lunch, when Chrom and Frederick, dressed in full armor, returned to the garrison.

At the time Anali sat with Sully, Sumia, Stahl, Ruby, and Kellam in the mess hall as the four recounted stories about the early days with the Shepherds when they were first founded. Back when it was simply a passion project of Chrom’s. “And then bam! Down goes Sumia with ten suits of historical armor and weaponry,” finished Sully.

“No!” Anali gasped over Ruby’s roaring laughter and fist pounding on the table. She looked Sumia in the face to find the poor girl turning beat red. “Really?”

“Gods, I knew you have two left feet…” Ruby said in between breaths. “But… _really_?!”

“It was an accident!” Sumia said miserably.

“Can we simmer down, please!” Frederick called over the wave of chatter. Silence soon fell upon the mess hall within a matter of seconds. “Thank you.”

Anali, who hadn't notice Frederick or Chrom enter the mess hall, kept her eyes upfront. She knew that it must have had something to do with the messenger hawk, and her stomach nearly dropped. "Late this morning, we received a messenger hawk from the Farfort," Chrom explained. "It would appear that earlier this week a group of bandits captured the fort."

Murmurs erupted in the mess hall. It was just bandits, right? At least it wasn't Risen, it was something they could understand. Frederick silenced the Shepherds once more, allowing Chrom to continue. "I want seven volunteers, once we've got that sorted, we'll be marching out within the hour."

"The Vaike's ready to go now!" Vaike exclaimed rising to his feet.

"Good," said Frederick. "Anyone else?"

"Hell, ya I'm doing this," said Sully. "Haven't had any action in ages."

"Me too," Stahl and Kellam said in unison.

That was already four, five assuming Frederick was going to. Given that he was already in full armor, Anali did not doubt that was the case. With her nose firmly stuck in her book, Miriel stood up with a hand raised, making her volunteer number six.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Anali took a deep breath in. She stood up before she slowly opened her eyes. Sumia Ruby each looked back at her with a raised brow, undoubtedly surprised by Anali's choice. The Pegasus Knight glanced back at Chrom, he was looking at Anali, smiling. It made Sumia wonder what would have happened if Anali did not volunteer. "You have an hour to gather your effects," announced Frederick. "After that, we will be marching to the Farfort with or without you."

Immediately the seven volunteers got up and headed to their rooms. Anali put on the slacks, and kilt she was found in. Then she put on the tunic she bought to replace the old one. A lilac and purple tunic that was sleeveless with a high collar. On her hands, she wore a couple of leather bands that successfully hid her mark. Her coat topped it off; against everyone’s sage advice, Anali just couldn’t part with it for that long. She had done her hair up in a couple of pigtails with a braid on each side that went from her bangs to the pinch of the tail. One tendril or the other always managed to find its way over her shoulder. Her bangs hung freely, framing her face.

Anali fiddled with the belts around her waist. She had gotten a sling to carry her tome in with easy access while the other belt carried her sheath. When Anali declared she was ready Sumia looked her over and had to critique the way Anali put on her belts. “It’s too loose!” she chided, lightly smacking Anali on the shoulder. “You’ll lose your effects like that long before you find yourself in battle.”

She tightened Anali’s belts for her, which caused a deep blush on her face. She had come out of her shell a bit within the last couple of weeks, but she still valued her personal space. “Now, you be careful out there,” Sumia said when she finished. “I want to see you home in one piece, okay?”

"I will," Anali replied with an awkward smile. "Try not to cause too much trouble while we're gone."

Sumia smiled sardonically. "Very funny."

As Frederick had promised, they left Ylisstol after an hour on the dot. It felt a little odd to see her friends or comrades in their effects. But, then again Anali probably looked a little odd herself.

By mid-afternoon they reached the docks, from there, they would sail out for the next few hours. Their vessel was relatively small compared to other countries, it was mostly used for importing goods to and from the fort. However, it was the most they could do for transportation, as Ylisse had no naval fleet.

###### 

Vaike leaned against the starboard side of the vessel, his elbows leaned over the parapet, and his eyes locked on the Plegian woman. She was practically broadcasting her origins to the world with that coat she wore.

After Vaike's initial outburst at seeing her mark, Lissa had given him a stern warning, mostly over the fact that he grabbed her. "Look, I'm not going to force you to like her," Lissa told him when the two stood alone in the hallway, "but none of us approve of attacking a fellow Shepherd when we're not training!"

What were they thinking, though?!

What possessed Chrom to think it was a good idea to bring in some Plegian trash and expect Vaike to work with her? She wasn't just some Plegian either, she was one of the Grimleal. Her coat and the mark on her hand proved as much. She was a follower of the fell dragon Grima at one point! The very dragon that tried to wipe out humanity!

Okay, yes, this one woman couldn't be held personally responsible for the events during the war, but her father could have very well been part of the Plegian armies. Her kind could have been responsible for the deaths of many Ylissean men, women, and children. The war left a lot of street orphans in its wake, and only a handful of them could find themselves lucky enough to have a secure future.

Besides, she could have been amongst those responsible for Ylisse's problems now. It seemed awfully convenient that she was smack between two Plegian attacks.

"Keep glaring like that and I'm sure you'll wear a hole into the ship," Chrom said, suddenly at Vaike's side. When did he get there?

"I'm not glaring," Vaike mumbled, his eyes locked on the ship deck.

"Of course not," said Chrom. He leaned against the rail with his arms crossed flat on the surface. "You were just staring at Anali really hard."

He peered back at the woman, she was crouched down on the deck, leaning against the bow. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she held her arms around her stomach as she forced herself to breathe steadily. No sea legs on this one, that was for sure.

Vaike heard the prince sigh. "I'm sorry," said Chrom. "But I would've thought you were above this sort of thing."

"Excuse me?" Vaike said, trying not to sound too offended.

"You and Anali," Chrom explained, "the hostility. I would have thought you of all people would be a little more welcoming of her."

"You mean like how I would have thought you could see through a Plegian's trap?" Vaike countered.

He couldn't blame his Captain and rival for not understanding the life he and the other street urchins had growing up. But, Chrom had to have known better than to trust some Plegian whore. Especially when one considered the events that lead up to his first meeting with the woman. "I mean, think about it," Vaike said before Chrom could argue with him. "You leave Elrond, after Plegians attacked the village, then find a Plegian woman on the ground, covered in blood. There was only one death in Elrond, right? And you find a woman covered in blood?"

Chrom forced himself to look away. He understood full well what Vaike was suggesting, but the idea sounded so preposterous. Anali murdering a woman? Besides, if Anali was there in Elrond, why was she in the field like that? Why would she run instead of following her superiors? And that’s not even considering how Anali ended up in the field in the first place. Some things didn't quite add up.

"I'm not the only one thinkin' it," Vaike added. "I'd bet every Sun I have to my name that Frederick and Phila made the connection already."

"I don't believe Anali could have done that, Vaike," Chrom said calmly, "that's just not in her character."

Vaike could hardly resist the urge to roll his eyes. Partially because Chrom was being both stupid and bias, and partially because it was typical Prince Chrom. He swore the history books would know him as Prince Chrom the Trusting, or the aptly put, Prince Chrom the Gullible.

Even if she was being truthful about her memory loss, Chrom did not know Anali at all. So murder and crime could have easily been in her character. "I swear, man," Vaike sighed, turning himself around to look at the horizon. "You are far too trusting. You're going to let your death waltz right in."

"Please," sighed Chrom, "I'm not that oblivious."

###### 

When they docked, Frederick lead the campaign down the dirt trail that lead to the forest and would lead to the Farfort a few miles in. Anali road on horseback with Kellam, and tried desperately not to fall over as she looked around. She spent the first fifteen minutes or so just gawking at the scenery, but then the night was starting to fall. Soon enough the stars were shining and the fireflies were out.

All that was heard was the clop, clop, clop of the horses, and the chirping of birds and insects. It was a calm night, almost ideal for a campout if only the wind wasn’t so chilly. There were a few murmurs from the Shepherds, but no one was making conversation, which was probably for the best.

They were, according to Frederick, a good two miles away from the Farfort when there was a sudden rustling from the trees. Instantly the Shepherds dismounted their horses, some more gracefully than others. Chrom, however, kept one hand up, signaling for everyone to hold fire. The rustling grew louder and louder as a silhouette could be seen in the near distance. The figure barreled out of the woods revealing a boy, no older than fifteen. He was scrawny, dressed in blue with dented pot atop his head, hiding unruly brown hair.

"Halp!" the boy exclaimed as he stumbled to his knees. "You gots to help us!"

"Easy lad," Chrom said, dismounting his horse. "Slow down. You're from the Farfort, yes?"

"Y-Yes, milord!" the boy blurted out as he rose to his feet with his back straight and rigid. "That would be correct, Your Graciousness."

"Perhaps we should hold off on the titles for now," quipped Frederick. "Why don't we start with your name, my boy."

"Donny!" the boy introduced with a great heap of enthusiasm. He cleared his throat and said, much calmer the second time around, "Er, that is, Donnel."

"All right… Donnel. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Those rotten-toothed, pig-stinkin' dastards just ransacked and attacked us in the middle of the night!" Donnel explained. "Took the fort 'bout a week ago and started takin' all we've got for food, belongin's and… other things. Keepin' us locked in the fort, not letting' us work on our crops, and suckin' us dry of everything we gots."

"Sounds like we got here in time then," murmured Kellam.

"Barely," Stahl agreed.

"I'm the only one who got away," continued Donnel, "just barely. They started roundin' up the local maidens to haul 'em off…"

Donnel's voice wavered, his gaze fell upon the ground as his hands tightened into fists. His shoulders began to shake, it was abundantly clear by Donnel's face that he was trying so very hard not to start crying right then and there. Shaking his head, Donnel quickly wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Please, sir!" the boy pleaded, looking up at Chrom, "You gots to save them, folks! My ma's one of 'em and… She's all I gots in this world!"

"Don't worry, Donny," Chrom said, clapping the boy on the shoulder, "we'll save your ma. How much farther is it to the fort from here?"

"'Bout a mile, milord. But they've gots the draw bridge guarded all hours of the day. I was hearin' there archer's accuracy's somethin' to be reckoned with."

"Ah, great!" growled Vaike. "The one time we could've used Virion and we left him back at Ylisstol."

"It would not matter," Miriel adjusted her glasses, "he would've surely been outnumbered, and the bandits would still have the home-field advantage."

"Perhaps we should send for reinforcements, milord," suggested Frederick. "We should be able to overpower them easily with vast numbers."

"But by then it might be too late for the village girls," Stahl pointed out. "Maybe we could just find another way in."

"Hey, if you're volunteering, I don't mind," said Vaike.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm not getting an arrow in my ass."

"Well, I don't see you coming up with any better ideas!" Sully snapped.

"We could always wait for the archers to change shifts…" Kellam suggested weakly, "just a thought…

"Neither are you!" Vaike shouted at Sully. He gestured to Miriel. "If you want bright ideas, why not turn to our resident egghead?!"

"Please do not drag me into this childish feud," Miriel sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"All right, all right!" Chrom called, raising one hand into the air. "If we start arguing amongst ourselves now we'll never be able to-"

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Voices began to morph into one, shouting different ideas all at once, and shouting at the others to come up with something better. If they didn't have archers themselves, they could use magic. But they were still too high up. Well, maybe they could sneak in through the front. Well, if it was that easy then they would have found more people than just Donnel. Then they should send for more men, or at least a few Pegasus Knights. By the time they get here it could be far too late for the girls, and who knew what they had planned for them afterward. And Pegasus Knight’s wouldn’t last against archers.

Anali stared, dumbfounded and confused. Please, please, tell her that they were not always like this. This arguing amongst themselves was wasting just as much time as sending for more help. Perhaps they did need more men, but Anali could understand why they went with nine units, it drew in less attention.

Okay… okay, there was a way to siege the fort with small numbers, they just needed to think about it. Anali distanced herself from the group, their bickering was not making it easy for her to think. She tore off a thin twig from the closest tree, then plucked off the leaves. She crouched down and began to draw a rectangle into the dirt. "Donny," Anali called over her shoulder. The village boy looked just as confused, and possibly more frustrated than Anali had not even a minute ago. "Can you help me map out the fort? I don't think I've ever been there before."

"Well, sure," Donnel said. He crouched down beside Anali. He took the twig from her and began to draw a few more shapes inside the rectangle for the homes, barns, shops, and other buildings. He finished by circling two corners of the rectangle, and a third one in between the two. "They've got guards posted right here. And…" He drew a fourth circle, off-center in the heart of the fort. "That's where they're keepin' the women they rounded up."

"Okay," Anali nodded, "now is there somewhere the bandits usually occupy?"

"Mayor Grey's house," Donnel replied; he drew a circle diagonally across from the last circle. "They've been keepin' the Mayor and his wife in the house at all hours. But usually, they're at the tavern."

He drew a sixth circle a few centimeters away from the circle representing the drawbridge. "Okay," Anali nodded, the wheels in her head were beginning to turn. "Donny, is there anything they wouldn't know about the village? Anything at all?"

"Em…" Donnel thought for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. What didn't they know about the village? His first thought was how hard-working, good, and chummy everyone was, but he doubted that was what she meant. "Well, there's the well. You can actually swim into it from the lake outside the fort. Hehe… We liked to give everyone a scare by doing that as youngins."

Anali's brow rose, a well? That could work. "Oh, and there's this old wagon 'bout a mile into the woods," Donnel explained. "'S been there for as long as I can remember."

"What has?" Chrom asked, startling the pair.

"A wagon Donnel mentioned," explained Anali. "And depending on its current state," she crossed her arms over her chest with an all too proud grin on her face. "I think I know how we can reclaim the fort by sunrise."

###### 

Anali's plan was quite simple, but at the same time, there were plenty of places where it could just collapse on itself and there goes the Farfort, and about half the Shepherds. Everything needed to be timed right, if someone acted too soon or too late, everything would quickly go to hell.

"This is gonna get us all killed," mumbled Vaike. He pulled himself into the wagon; it creaked each time he shifted his weight.

The abandoned wagon would play a huge part in it, but the thing looked like it would collapse on itself at any time. Sully's horse, Baldulf, was deemed the fastest and strongest out of them all, and thus would be the one pulling as he could make a fast escape if something went wrong.

"It just needs to hold out long enough," Chrom said, his cape and pauldron were removed from his person. A good half of the Shepherds had removed their armor and placed it in the wagon. All it would do was weigh them down and make unnecessary noise. "Does everybody understand what their job is?”

"Um…" Kellam raised his hand. "What group am I in again?"

"Getting in is, obviously, the tricky part," said Anali. "Stealth is everything for the first group as much as the timing for the second group is."

"Donny," Chrom said to the village boy, "I want you to stay close."

"Beg pardon, milord? You mean…?" Donnel's voice raised a couple of octaves. Anali hoped against hope that he hadn't given them away. Donnel looked from Chrom to the fort, then back. "I… I can't fight, sir! I ain't never even stuck a pig before!"

"Oh, sorry," Chrom said quickly, "I just thought… I mean…" He shook his head. "Look, just stay here. You'll be fine."

Donnel's hands tightened into a couple of fists. "I wish I was as strong as you sirs and madams," he said, his voice sounded as tight as his throat probably was. "Kick that scum out single-handed, I would!"

"Then you should fight with us," Chrom offered, placing a hand on Donnel’s shoulder. "That's the best way to grow stronger."

"But I ain't-"

"No man is born a warrior, Donny. And farm work makes for fine training - a sickle's not far from a sword, after all. Bandits may be tougher than wheat, but the principle's the same."

Donnel rubbed the back of his neck, then took in a deep breath. "A-all right, milord. As you say, I'm no warrior. But they're my people. I gots to do what I can!"

"Good, is everyone ready?" Frederick asked, and was promptly met with mumbles and groans. "Ah, yes. That's the sort of attitude you want to hear before a liberation."

"Well maybe if the plan wasn't so flimsy," grumbled Sully.

"Sully!" Chrom shot back.

"What? I'm not the only one thinking it!"

"No, no, you're not," Anali said, pushing her bangs back; there was an edge to her voice. she would happily mock the person who came up with this idea if that person wasn't Anali herself.

Anali followed the first group, which consisted of Chrom, Sully, Stahl, and Donnel to a lake, a quarter of a mile away from the Farfort. According to Donnel, there was a pipeline that connected the lake to five wells in the village, giving them access to freshwater. "You sure we can make it through the well?" Stahl asked skeptically.

"Well sure," Donnel replied, "ah used to do it all the time as a kid."

"So you can make the swim then?" asked Anali; to which Donnel nodded in response. "Okay, that's good to know. Yes, we definitely want you with the first group, you know the village better than any of us, and you'll know where the bandits are stationed. Are you okay with that?"

"I should be able to handle that."

The white-haired woman nodded. Suddenly the journey here seemed so long ago. This morning, Anali would not have imagined herself coming up with the plan to liberate the Farfort. If someone died it would be on Anali and her bright idea.

Donnel lead Sully and Stahl into the lake as Anali pushed her bangs back again; she bit her lower lip. This was it, no turning back. Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest with a force that surely shook her rib cage. Don't run away, Anali told herself over and over. Don't run away. Don't run away. Do not run away.

The hand that placed itself on her shoulder startled her enough to release her grip on her hair. Chrom was looking at her with a very slight smile. "It's going to be fine, Anali," he said.

She shook her head, slowly. "How do you know?" she asked. "What make's you so sure?"

"Because you have a talent for battle strategy. I haven't seen anyone able to size up their enemies with such accuracy as you. This isn't exactly the first strategy you've come up with."

Anali hugged her left arm close to her. "Maybe…" she murmured. As much as Anali wanted to avoid needless bloodshed of her comrades and the innocent villagers, she still needed to stay focused. She would be no good to the Shepherds if all she did was worry. "Be careful, Chrom."

"You too," replied Chrom.

Anali gave him a brief nod before she hurried back to the wagon. When they first split into two groups, it was based on who knew they could make the swim for sure. That left Chrom, Donnel, Sully, and Stahl. Neither Vaike nor Frederick was certain if they could make it in one breath. Miriel admitted she wasn't that strong of a swimmer, and Anali wasn't even sure if she could swim period. In the end, they were divvied up pretty evenly, so it worked out.

She watched as Chrom waded in the water after the other. Then lost sight of him in the darkness as he paddled out into deeper water. Now was really the point of no return, the realization made Anali’s stomach drop.

_'Don’t forget,'_ said a dark little voice in the back of her head, _'if someone dies is on you and your bright idea.'_

###### 

Chrom waded into the water until he could no longer feel the lake bed beneath his feet. He could always swim very well, childhood incidents in the bath notwithstanding, and presuming they handle this safely, Chrom would be able to make it to the well in one breath.

When they got to the rocky wall, Donnel took in a deep breath, then went under. One by one the Shepherds mimicked this; it was hard with little to no light, but Chrom was vaguely able to see Donnel disappear into the pipe. The pipe itself was a tight squeeze for him, but he was still able to kick to propel themselves. Even if using his arms to paddle was out of the question. All at once, Chrom was glad Anali had enough foresight to suggest his group leave their armor behind. Not only would it just weigh them down, but it would have been even harder to make the swim.

Donnel pushed off the well floor and swam up; they were in already. Chrom followed behind the village boy; his head broke through the water in a matter of seconds. He brushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes as Stahl and Sully came up for air shortly after him. There were a few voices in the distance, so there was a chance they could climb out unnoticed given their judgment was right. Donnel pointed to the wall where several bricks had been pulled out to create hand and footholds. It should not have been that surprising, given Donnel explained that the village children did this sort of thing a lot.

Chrom grabbed onto the hold and slowly began to pull himself up. Once fully out of the water he paused to make sure no one heard him. He gestured for the others to follow him, but slowly. One by one, they climbed out of the well. Chrom gestured for Donnel to follow him, while Sully and Stahl snuck over to Mayor Grey's house.

Donnel lead the way to the holdings within the heart of the village; both kept within the shadows. The younger boy stopped behind someone's house, then gestured around the corner. A man leaned against the door, he looked ready to conk out at any time. Chrom held up one hand to Donnel. The message behind it was clear; wait.

Chrom crept around the corner of the house, and the string of homes beside it; stalking closer to the near-sleeping man. At the edge of the line, Chrom could see the building and the man in plain sight. "What's this you're yammerin' about?" he heard. Instinctively, his hand went to the hilt of Falchion.

"This guy's claiming to have the village's imports from Regna Ferox," another man replied.

"It's the middle of the night!"

"He was sayin' he had wagon trouble."

So Frederick and Anali's group were doing okay then. For now at least. There wasn't a signal from Sully and Stahl yet; if they could last just another few minutes they were right where they wanted to be. The voices were muffled as their respective owners walked off. Stealing the moment, Chrom launched forward.

He wrapped one arm around the man's neck and pulled him against the crook of his neck. Chrom used his other arm to keep the man's head steady. The man, who had just snapped out of his daze, struggled in Chrom's grip; struggling to breathe, struggling to break free. His breathing stopped, his limbs fell limp at his sides, and his eyes were half-open.

Chrom laid the man down and rummaged through his person. The keyring was attached to his belt; Chrom quickly undid the man’s belt and removed the key ring. As soon as he got onto his feet Donnel was at Chrom’s side. The hooting of an owl echoed across the village, the telltale sign that Stahl and Sully were successful in rescuing Mayor Grey and his wife. "Phase one, done," murmured Donnel.

"We're not out of the woods yet, Donny," Chrom reminded him as he unlocked the door.

"Ah know. I'm just a little amazed we've made it this far."

"It's not because we did this alone, I'll tell you that much," said Chrom; he unlocked the door and slowly opened it.

Inside, the village maidens were huddled in the back of the room. Some of them looked as young as thirteen. Thirteen. They were hardly young women. Did those bastards have no sense of decency?

One of the girls stood up, as though trying to put herself between the potential threat and the others. By the look on her face alone Chrom was willing to believe she would wrestle a bear if it were to keep these girls safe. She was amongst the eldest of the group, and easily the most beautiful with her red-gold hair done up in a thick, loose braid.

"Miss. Rosalind?" Donnel questioned, he lightly pushed Chrom to the side. His smile brightened at the sight of the young woman. "Miss. Rosalind! So glad to see you're safe 'n sound! I woulda thought for sure they'd sent you away by now."

"I could say the same about you!" Rosalind shot back. "I was just hearin' from Roddick that you managed to escape." She looked up at Chrom, her brow arched for a moment before her eyes widened. "And you found the Shepherds? How on earth'd you manage that?"

"By accident…" Donnel admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chrom cleared his throat. "Donny, I'm sure you and your… friend, have a bit to catch up on," he said, "but we may very well be pressed for time."

"Ah! Sorry," Donnel said quickly, his face began to turn red.

"You're here to save us?" one of the maidens asked as she rose to her feet.

"Please, Sir," one of the thirteen-year-olds spoke up, "I wanna go home."

"Don't worry," Chrom assured them. "After tonight everyone will be home, safe and sound. First, we want to get you out of here, and to the Mayor's as a safe house."

"But they'll catch us!" one of the girls argued.

"And? I'd rather die than experience the alternative!"

"Die?!"

"I want my Ma and Pa!"

"I don't wanna die!"

They were cut off by the shouting outside; even from there, Chrom could smell smoke. Looks like the second group reached their limit. "We need to move," Chrom said, unsheathing Falchion. "Now!"

###### 

‘Don’t forget, if someone dies is on you and your bright idea.’

Anali forced the thought out of her head as she hurried back for the wagon. She needed to start thinking positively, which meant having faith that everything would be fine.

And it would.

By the time she returned to the wagon, Frederick had seated himself on the front seat with the reigns in hand. The spare traveling cloaks he had packed were laid out on the wagon with Chrom's groups and Frederick's, armor. In a fluid movement, Anali pulled herself onto the wagon, which promptly moaned under her weight.

"These men aren't stupid," she heard Frederick mutter to himself. He covered himself with one of the traveling cloaks. "They will know I'm up to something very quickly."

"I know," said Anali. "Our goal isn't to make them believe what you're telling them, just distract them long enough to keep Chrom and the others from being seen. If you show up in the middle of the night, claiming to have exported goods they're not expecting, that might rile up a bit of confusion."

"I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing," Vaike said with a glare at her.

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't.”

"Hey, guys, maybe we should keep quiet," Kellam suggested. "Just a thought."

Vaike, Miriel, and Anali looked at the back corner of the wagon where Kellam was seated, waiting for them to get started. How long had he been there?!

Vaike was about ready to shout, he probably would have blown their cover if Anali and Miriel had not each slapped a hand over his mouth. "Kellam!" Frederick hissed through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?! I thought you were supposed to be with Chrom's group."

"Was I?" Kellam asked, genuinely confused. "No one said anything…"

Anali felt her jaw hang open; where was Kellam supposed to be? He did not say he could make the swim when asked… or did he? Why couldn't Anali remember? Or, better yet, why didn't she see that Kellam was there in the first place? "You know what, it doesn't matter," Anali said; she began to use her hands to talk with her. "It works out either way. We're just going to waste time trying to figure it out. Right now, we need to huddle together."

Following Anali's instructions, the four squatted down in the back of the wagon with the travel cloaks covering them. "Moment of truth," Frederick murmured to himself.

Clicking his tongue, Frederick snapped the reigns, and Baldulf began to walk at a steady pace. The wagon creaked and lightly swayed from side to side. Anali suddenly worried that it might fall apart if they hit the slightest bump in the road. And why did she not think about this before they set off?

They remained silent, aside from the clop, clop of Baldulf, and the creaking of the rickety old wagon. Anali could not tell you how long they were there for, five minutes? Fifteen seconds? Five seconds? The anticipation made it all uncomfortably long.

The wagon slowed to a stop, followed suit by someone shouting, "State your business!"

"I'm just delivering the fabrics from Regna Ferox," said Frederick. The accent he had adopted would have been comical, if not for their current situation. Where was it even from?

"Sir, do you have any idea what time it is?" the man asked irritably.

"Do you have any idea what I had to go through to bring these here?" Frederick asked in return. "The hail, the snow, the rodents of unusual sizes, the Risen and bandits!"

"Sir, it's the middle of the night."

"Did I not already mention the Risen? Now, the seamstress was supposed to be expecting these fabrics a week ago, at least let me drop them off."

"Seamstress? What do these hick-folk need with a seamstress?"

"Believe me, sir, why would I be here in the middle of the night, as you've kindly pointed out if I were lying? I have things I would much rather be doing at this hour."

The guard leaned to the side, craning his neck up to get a good look inside the wagon. What if there had been fabrics on their way here? What was he supposed to do? "Hold your fire!" the guard shouted skywards to the archers. "Wait here, I need to ask about this."

Anali's heart nearly leaped into her throat. This was good, this was just what they wanted. The bandits did not want to be found out any more than the Shepherds did, so they needed to stall just as much. As far as they knew, Ylisse did not know about the capture of the fort and they would have wanted to keep it that way.

They could hear voices go back and forth with each other as the guard disappeared into one of the buildings. The shadows could be seen through the windows of the tavern. There were muffled voices at first, then slowly built up to shouting, "What seamstress?! What order?!" These two lines were repeated three more times.

The tavern door opened and a scrawny little man hurried out. He sprinted across the road to the inn; after knocking on the door, someone let him in. Less than a minute later someone lit a candle on the ground floor. Everything had become silent, eerily silent.

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. True, the whole point was to stall for time as Chrom's group saved the mayor and the maidens, but Anali had no idea what was going on with the bandits. Had they found out about Chrom's group? Did they know what was in the wagon?

The door opened ten minutes later; the scrawny man darted back into the tavern. The muffled conversation started back up again. Hardly two seconds passed before a few 'You idiots!' were thrown out. The tavern's door slammed open, a gruff man stomped out with the guard close at his heels shouting, "Roddick! Roddick, wait!"

"Alright," the gruff man, Roddick, snapped at Frederick, "what game are you playin' at?!"

"Tis no game, good sir," Frederick replied, unaffected by Roddick's raised voice. "I am just a merchant from Regna Ferox, here to trade my goods for Moons and Suns."

"And what merchant arrives this late at night?" Roddick replied. He rounded the wagon so that he could look inside. "What would the seamstress need with fabric anyway?"

"Well, sir, the whole concept of a seamstress is-"

"Lemme rephrase that," Roddick said; he reached inside the wagon. "What does the seamstress need with fabric, when she's been dead for the last six weeks?"

He grabbed a fistful of cloak and yanked on it. As soon as it was off Miriel snapped her tome open then tossed her free hand forward. Almost immediately, Roddick and the guard were blown back by the blast. The guard started to scream in a wild panic; the sleeve of his tunic had caught fire. "We're under attack!" Roddick roared, and one by one the windows of each building lit up. He ran back to the tavern. "Everyone grab your blade and fight! Archer's open fire!"

Vaike and Kellam leaned back until the wagon fully tipped over, taking everyone inside with it. Balduf whinnied in a wild panic. Quickly, Frederick undid his harness, and the stallion bolted straight into the village. "Somebody get that horse!"

Frederick took shelter behind the fallen wagon as the archers began firing arrows at them. "Okay, we've got two options now," Anali said in a hushed tone. "We can either charge into the fort, I'm sure they won't risk hitting their own men, or wait for them to run out of arrows.”

"Well, fuck that idea," Vaike said brandishing his axe. "We'd be here for ages if we waited them out."

"Oh, I agree," said Anali. "Which is why we just charge in."

"That will only succeed in making us targets," Frederick pointed out.

"Only if we move in a b-line," Miriel said, snapping her Fire tome closed. "So long as we make ourselves difficult targets until we get ourselves into the fray."

"What she said," Anali said, gesturing to Miriel. "We just run in, and don't be an easy target."

"As good an idea as any," mumbled Vaike.

On the count of three, Vaike and Kellam were the first to sprint out from behind the wagon. The bandit's archers fired, one of the arrows nicked Kellam's armor, but it wasn't enough to break his stride. Miriel, Frederick, and Anali followed suit. "Hold fire!" someone shouted as they successfully made it inside. "Hold fire and get down here, you idiots!"

Inside the fort, all hell had broken loose within a matter of minutes. Anali could see the villagers shut themselves into their homes. Men encouraged their wives and children to hide in the cellars; lights were being snuffed out in the windows. That was good; they understood enough of what was going on to keep themselves hidden. That would mean there would be less innocent blood spilled tonight.

Torches on the outsides of the buildings quickly lit up the town with such a force, it would have been easy to mistake that morning was on the horizon. Chrom, Donnel, Sully, and Stahl had successfully transferred the maidens to Mayor Grey's house. The last thing they wanted was one of the bandits to escape with any of the girls. In a stroke of luck, Grey and his wife had a secret cellar under their dining room that their leader, Roddick, knew nothing about, so they would all be safe in there.

Once the group split up to enter the fray, Donnel found himself a bronze lance someone dropped to use against the brigands. He couldn't do much else than just swing it and hope it hit something, but if Donnel did have one thing it was speed. He may have lacked strength and knowledge, but his ability to dodge was quite admirable. It was little wonder he had managed to escape.

The Shepherds had scattered throughout the village. Stahl stuck close to Donnel should the boy get in way over his head. Sully had reunited with her stallion and began cutting through the brutes like a hot knife through butter. Kellam remained unnoticed by the Shepherds, but also by the bandits themselves; they never knew what hit them. Vaike and Frederick made fighting against them look easy. Miriel was able to keep them at bay with her magic, and Anali alternated between her sword and tome.

The bandits here were in a different league than the bandits in Southtown when Chrom first met Anali. Their men were stronger, more resilient; they knew what they were doing. The notion wasn't entirely surprising, they had seized the Farfort for a week, after all. But, they were not organized, that was their fatal flaw.

They didn't know about the messenger hawk someone managed to send out. Their guard didn't know off the top of his head that the seamstress had died. Nor did they know about the secret cellar in the Mayor's house, they could have been hiding villagers under their nose without knowing it. And now, here they were, fighting against the Shepherd's with no strategy outside of 'cut-them-down.'

The ruffian's attacked them with no rhyme or reason, it was simply a matter of getting the Shepherds killed the fastest way possible. It should have been easy for them, the Shepherds only had eight men with them, nine if they counted Donnel. The bandits easily outnumbered them, but they were not going down, not as easily as Roddick would have wanted.

Miriel reared back; one of her spells missed its intended target, the brute was quick to steal the opportunity. He threw his arm horizontally, no doubt trying to cut through Miriel's midsection. The red-haired mage, while certainly not the fastest, staggered back, missing the oncoming blow just enough to cut through her robes and knick her on the arm. Blood suddenly spurted from the bandit's backside, he fell over with an axe protruding from the right side of his back, just below the shoulder.

A spiky-haired blonde stood behind the man, still frozen in position once he released his axe. He smirked, prideful of his accomplishment, as he walked up, and retrieved his axe. Readjusting her glasses, Miriel sighed. Vaike's action did not go unappreciated, but he could have been a bit more timely.

Sully plowed through the streets on horseback with her lance in hand. Balduf had found her after Frederick released him from the wagon, a possible blessing that Sully was not about to question. She could cover more ground this way and cut down more of these dastards. She got caught up in the action in front of her, she failed to notice the shadow following close behind, watching her back from any projectile weaponry.

Frederick and Anali fought back-to-back, with Anali alternating between her sword and magic. She knew full well what Frederick's abilities were like, and rightfully guessed that he held back during their training sessions. But she had some idea of what to keep an eye out for on his end so that she didn't end up hit by accident.

A sword-wielding ruffian ran up to Anali. She met him halfway; Anali slashed into him, just between his shoulder and neck. The man screamed loud enough to surely hurt his throat. Enraged, the bandit thrust his sword forward, aiming for Anali's face. She was able to misdirect the blow by kicking the man in the abdomen; he fell over. Blood was beginning to pool around his head from his injury. Quickly, before the man had the chance to get up, Anali drove her blade into him.

Silence.

###### 

Chrom was thirteen when he first received Falchion, the only one of the three royals both able and willing to wield it. He knew full well that Emmeryn would not keep such a blade at her side, for it would be like turning her back on her principals. And Lissa, despite what she said about being willing to defend Ylisse, was overwhelmed by the thought of wielding a melee weapon. No, Lissa was okay with healing and magic. So, Chrom was the only one left to carry one of Ylisse's national treasures, the very sword used by the first Exalt, and the Hero-King himself.

When Chrom was first given the blade at thirteen, he understood full well what his duty to Ylisse was. To rebuild its shattered army, to act in Emmeryn's stead, to defend Ylisse from those who would take advantage of its greatest attribute. From Plegian's stirring up the peace, even ruffians who thought they could keep themselves safe by taking the Farfort. He would be the one to show them that Ylisse was not the halidom to take advantage of.

So Chrom cut through the bandits who challenged him. Their numbers were beginning to diminish, and fast. Let it be one of the Shepherds cutting them down, or the bandits who were cutting their losses and fled the scene. If nothing else, the cowards were weeded out.

A woman cried out as she was being dragged out of her home by Roddick. She was a plump, middle-aged woman; the low ponytail she styled her hair in was beginning to unravel. Didn't Donnel say that they were collecting the maidens? This woman could have very well be married with her own gaggle of children. But, as Chrom decided, the details did not matter; she was in trouble, he had to help her. Simple at that.

Luce pulled at Roddick's hand, the very one that was held tight around the back of her shirt and pulling at a few strands of hair. She knew full well that Roddick was downright furious; his plans, his means of protection had all gone to hell in less than an hour. Luce knew he would come for her, however, she expected it sooner given it was her son that escaped. "Damn it!" Roddick hissed, throwing Luce to the ground. "All of this because that kid of yours got away!"

"This would have happened even if he hadn't!" Luce shot back. "Did you think we didn't learn anything since you last came here?!"

A snide grin played upon Roddick's lips, recalling the event several years back. One of the villagers retaliated and struck Roddick with a pitchfork, successfully breaking a couple of his ribs. So, Roddick and his gang returned the favor by killing him; Luce was that man’s widow. "If I had enough sense back then, I woulda killed that brat of yours before he got out!" Roddick barked back. "I outta wring his neck next time I see him."

"He's just a boy!" Luce cried out; a new form of panic began to swell up in her chest. Her boy had a good head on his shoulders, surely he would stay away and run.

A smirk played upon Roddick's face. Why not take care of both the woman and her son now, and save him the trouble of a vengeful, childless widow? That would get the entire family under his belt. After all, they were proving to be more trouble than they were worth. First the husband and his pitchfork, then the son making a run for it. Why should Roddick wait for the wife to retaliate and humiliate him and his men, too? No man, woman, or child would show up Roddick.

Roddick removed his axe from its sling on his belt. Luce, with widened eyes, pushed herself back. She knew what he was planning, it was written all over his face. He raised the weapon above his shoulder. Where should he strike her? Get her in the chest and get it over with? Or why not chop off each limb and let her die slowly and painfully as he hunted down her son?

He realized too late that Chrom was two feet away from him; the prince punched Roddick in the jaw. He stumbled back and braced himself against Luce's home. Turning his head to the side, Roddick spat out a bit of blood, the assault had caused him to bite his tongue.

Chrom knelt down and helped Luce onto her feet. "You all right?" he asked her. Unable to find her voice, Luce nodded. "Find someplace safe, we'll have the fort back before you-"

"Milord!" Luce exclaimed, suddenly finding her voice again.

In one, swift, movement, Chrom brandished his blade and blocked the oncoming axe. Roddick put as much strength into his attack as he could muster. Blood from his bitten tongue pooled in his mouth, a minor inconvenience compared to the blood of a royal on his ax. "Time to show you castle whelp what us wild-born men can do!" shouted Roddick, his tone laced with mirth.

"We will see about that!" Chrom countered.

Seeing that his first attack was not about to get him anywhere, Roddick threw his arm back for another attack. Something Chrom blocked with ease. It went on like that several more times. Chrom playing defensive, while Roddick went onto the full attack, and then they got into a rhythm. It was only then Roddick grew comfortable, did Chrom attack him for a change.

Stepping forward, Chrom drove the tip of Falchion right through Roddick's axe-hand; Chrom could feel the blade scrape against bone. Screaming, Roddick dropped to one knee, keeping his injured arm raised. The brute looked up at Chrom with bloodshot eyes. "You…" Roddick cursed through clenched teeth. "You…!"

Unexpectedly, Roddick pulled his arm off of Falchion. An act that was no doubt, immensely painful, all Chrom could do was stare in awe. He snapped out of his stupor when Roddick swung his axe at Chrom successfully cutting his arm and chest. Chrom stumbled back, his right arm was bleeding just above the crease of his elbow. Roddick began to swing his blade around wildly, and all Chrom could do was protect himself with his sword. With Roddick attacking so randomly, it was difficult to find a spot for an open attack and easy for Chrom to end up seriously injured.

Abruptly, Roddick started to cough up blood; he looked down to find his front bleeding profusely. Donnel stood behind him, having driven his lance into his back and right through to the other side. The boy's eyes were widened as the weight of his actions slowly sunk in. Donnel wasn't quite sure what he was doing at the time, he saw Chrom struggling, so he just acted.

But he didn't have a word for what he was feeling at that moment. This was the man who murdered his pa, took over his village, planned to prostitute his friends, and was going to kill his ma. Donnel should have been happy, relieved that such a man wouldn't harm anyone anymore. Yet, he wasn’t and Donnel did not have the word for this emotion.

Slowly, Roddick turned his head around to look at Donnel. He looked downright terrified and enraged. "D-Damn you…" murmured Roddick. His eyes rolled back as he slumped over, dead as a doornail.

There were voices from the other Shepherds meshed into one. One by one, the lights from the village homes began to flicker on, as men and women poked their heads out the door. "Is… is it over?" asked Donnel.

With a small smile, Chrom nodded and clapped Donnel on the shoulder. "A worthy first victory, Donny," he said. "You fought well."

"Donny…?" Luce asked. She slowly stepped out of the barn she had taken shelter in.

The village boy smiled boldly. "Ma!" Donnel cried, running into Luce's arms.

"Oh, Donny!" Luce sobbed, holding her son close, as though she were afraid to let him go again. Afraid of what might happen if she did. "Thank goodness you're safe!" Her hands went from Donnel's backside to his shoulders. Luce held him at arm's length. "What were you thinkin'?! You had me worried to death, boy!"

Donnel gave his mother a lopsided grin. The last Luce had seen of her son, he was trying to convince her that he could make a run for it. That he could find help before they shipped off the girls. Donnel's escape had been less than stellar, with Roddick declaring that he would kill him if he ever saw Donnel again. "Sorry, Ma…" Donnel said; rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes were cast downward.

Luce pulled her son close to her again. Around them, the villagers emerged from their homes, the maidens the bandits had captured returned to their families. Mayor Grey spoke with Frederick, probably to ask where Chrom was, and about the village restoration. The village itself was still in decent condition, but their resources had dwindled with the bandit's eating them out of house and home. There was some hope for them, however, it was still spring, they could grow their crops long before winter arrived. "No flying axes this time?"

The sudden voice startled Chrom enough to make him jump. Whipping around on his heel, his hand wrapped tight around the hilt of Falchion ready to attack. But it was only Anali, looking a little worse for wear. Her left pigtail was beginning to come undone, with three locks of hair hanging free. There was a thin cut on her right cheek, starting just under her eye, that traveled back to her earlobe. There was a tear in the upper left sleeve of her coat, Chrom could just make out a bit of blood on the edge of the rip. She was tired, though, that much was written on her face with her weary smile and half-laden eyes.

Her shoulders begin to shake. "Sorry, did I startle you?" she asked in between giggles. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."

Shaking his head, Chrom let out a low chuckle. The odds had not exactly been in their favor, it was nine men against a full band of ruffians. They were outnumbered by more than a handful, but they all made it out alive. Chrom wouldn't have thought to sneak in through the well, nor would he have thought to use an old wagon to help with a distraction. Perhaps it was that that gave them the upper hand so quickly. They were able to free the hostages, and get the girls to safety should anything go wrong, then they were free to deal with the bastards who seized the fort in the first place. They had successfully rescued the village girls from who knew what and liberated the village. They were alive, they were worse for wear, but they were alive. If this was what Anali could come up with within just a matter of minutes with little to work with, Chrom had to wonder what else she was capable of.

He had to smile to himself. This ‘helpless victim’ was certainly something else.

"Milord," Mayor Grey said, walking up to the pair. He lowered his head, and for a moment, Anali could have sworn the older man had been crying at one point. "We cannot thank you and your Shepherds enough. Sir Frederick explained how you split into two groups, one as a distraction, your's sneaking in. Quite clever, milord."

"I'm afraid I cannot take credit for that," said Chrom. Before Anali could stop him, Chrom had placed both hands on Anali's shoulders and guided her in front of him. Her face had been dusted with a pink blush. "That belongs to our new tactician, Anali."

And just like that, the blush on Anali's face dissipated, and she looked back up at Chrom with an arched brow. Had she heard correctly, their new tactician? He was serious about that?!

Well, yes, Anali did seem to have an eye for sizing up enemies, and yes, creating the plan was kind of fun and exhilarating, and yes, she had been reading up on battle strategies. But shouldn't such a position go to someone who had more expertise and experience? Anali had only been a Shepherd for three weeks, this was her first march, this was her first real battle strategy. Why was she the tactician?

"Well, then, Lady Anali," Mayor Grey said, taking her hand into both of his. Once more, Anali's face began to heat up when he called her 'lady.' "You have the Farfort's gratitude."

"Th-thank you, sir," Anali stuttered, she carefully pulled her hand out of Grey's grip. "B-but any plan is useless without willing men and women. We wouldn't have gotten anywhere without Chrom leading us."

Mayor Grey tossed his head back and laughed. "I suppose we all stand corrected," he said, "it would seem the Farfort has you both to thank."

Chrom could not help but smile a little; perhaps the mayor was right. The liberation of the Farfort was a joint effort by the Ylissean prince, and a wayward Plegian woman.

###### 

Frederick had convinced Chrom that it was probably a good idea to journey back to Ylisstol early in the morning when there was daylight out. However, that would leave them with only a few hours of sleep. The exhausted Shepherds moaned and groaned, and Chrom was in complete understanding, but both Chrom and Frederick were unwavering in their resolve. "Lady Emmeryn and Lady Lissa would want to know of our success as soon as possible, milord," Fredrick had told him. And Chrom couldn't find it in him to disagree, no matter how exhausted he was.

The inn had graciously provided them with rooms for the rest of the night, and a light meal before bed. In the mess hall, they laid out a warm pot of chicken broth and warm bread. The chatter amongst the Shepherds was low and mumbled, they were all exhausted from this long, long night. Well, all but Vaike, who boastfully recollected his kills of the night, whether anyone wanted to listen or not.

"Kellam," Sully said, sitting in front of the man in question.

"Y-yes?" Kellam stuttered. Not that he wasn't pleased to be speaking to someone, but Kellam was sure everyone forgot he was there at all.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, pipsqueak," said Sully. Her expression dull, with irritation behind her fiery eyes. "Frederick tells me you were secretly watching my back."

"Um, I wasn’t really trying to keep it a secret, Sully," explained Kellam. "I was just fighting alongside-"

"Well knock it off!" the red-haired woman said, pounding her fist on the table with enough force to cause Kellam's bowl and utensils to shake. "I don't need some tiny man in an oversized suit of armor watching me like I'm some child. Got it?!"

"B-b-but…" Kellam took a deep breath in. He knew what to do, just calmly explain himself to her, and this whole thing would blow over. "I wasn't giving you special treatment, Sully, honest. I just want to protect my comrades."

Slamming both hands onto the table, Sully stood up and leaned in forward. "I'll say this once, pipsqueak," Sully said darkly. "Don't ever pull that crap again! Are we clear? 'Cause if we are, I'm done. I'm exhausted and I'd rather not spend the rest of the night yelling at you, tin man."

Making her piece, Sully pushed her seat back and stomped off to her room to turn in for the night. Kellam sat stone-still, a little dumbfounded by the events that had just played out. That had not gone the way he had hoped it would.

The minutes quickly ticked by and the chatter amongst them died down. Odds were they would all be heading to bed in a few minutes. When the door creaked open, several of the Shepherds looked up at the door. Donnel poked his head inside before he walked in. "Donny," Chrom said, genuinely surprised. "It's late, I would have thought you were at home with your ma."

"I was," Donnel said, rubbing the back of his neck. "B-but I have a request, sir. If you'd allow it, Your Graceliness… please take me with you, milord. Lemme be a Shepherd like you! I wanna hone my… whatever it is you said earlier. I wanna protect the village if this ever happens again. Please, sir!"

There was a conviction in Donnel's dark eyes. As frightened as he might have been after he killed a man, his drive to keep his mother, and his village safe completely overrode it. His pa had died keeping his family safe, if the gods willed it, Donnel would do the same. His ma may argue at first, but she would understand with time. "We'd be happy to have you, Donny," said Chrom with a tired grin.

The boy's eyes lit up. "Yeh mean it?" he asked, a wide grin breaking out on his face. "Ah, thank you, milord! You won't regret this, I promise you!"

Before Chrom could say anything else, Donnel raced out of the inn, bellowing 'yee-haw!' all the while. Anali, who had previously struggled not to doze off, tried to hide her smile. Three weeks ago, she had been concerned about acceptance due to her possible - but highly plausible - origin. That Anali was most likely from some dirt poor family, that she did not fit in with Ylisse's military. Had she witnessed this scene play out, the prince of Ylisse happily accepting a village boy into the Shepherds, her decision would have been easier to make. But, in the end, Anali wouldn't have traded any of it for the world.

The next morning was filled with groaning and yawns, from all but Frederick. How on earth did he do it? One of the villagers fetched the horses and had them well taken care of. Anali road with Stahl on the way back to the docks for the trip back to the mainland. She was not looking forward to that.

Donnel had a comedically large knapsack on him that morning. His mother, naturally, had seen him off. "You're sure you want to do this, Donny?" Luce asked. She looked older than she had the previous night. Then again, last night, she wasn't seeing her son off as he went out into the world. "No one will blame you if-"

"I wanna protect the village, ma," Donnel said, cutting Luce off. "I wanna keep something like this from happenin' again. I wanna be able to keep you safe. You know what I mean?"

Luce looked Donnel in the eye. Somehow, when her back was turned he started to grow up. When had that happened? "You just…" said Luce. Sighing, she fixed Donnel's collar. "You just come home safe, love."

Misty eyed, Donnel threw his arms over Luce and held him close to her. He dwarfed his mother by a head and-a-half. The sight hit Anali with a wave of envy. She had moments like this with her own mother, didn't she? She had to. Perhaps Anali spent her summer days out fishing with her father and helped her mother prepare dinner in the evenings. Maybe her mother read to her as a child, and she helped her father repair damages to their home. What if she had siblings?

Anali wanted to believe her family was still alive, but the state she was found in didn't leave much hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over five years and I still haven’t decided if Anali can swim or not.
> 
> This chapter always feels like a beast. At least a part of that is due to Anali solidifying her position as tactician. Even back when I first wrote it, I knew I had to go all out for this chapter.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six  
Warrior Realm**

Donnel adjusted to Shepherd life beautifully. Ylisstol life, however, he needed to work on. When they returned to the palace, the boy apologized to everyone and everything he bumped into while pausing to gawk. Anali had to wonder if she was like that when she was first brought to Ylisstol. But, you could not take the farm life out of him. During his first three days at the garrison, Donnel was given a small patch of land and dug it up for gardening. On the fourth day, he finally started planting.

Training was something else he adjusted to much easier than Anali could have hoped for. As a farmer, his upper body was strong and his hands were already used to being beaten up. Getting up early was nothing new to him, and reportedly he was the one who whined the least in the morning.

Granted that could have been because he was trying to make a good impression on his new brothers-in-arms and Frederick.

Donnel was going to thrive within the Shepherds, that much was certain.

With the victory of the Farfort under her belt, and the realization that, yes indeed, she was the Shepherds tactician, Anali was often found with her nose buried deep in one of her books. More often than naught she had several rolls of parchment with her, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She wrote down as many notes as she could; the notes she wanted to remember and the ideas that came to her.

Anali easily lost herself in moments like these.

“Anali…” Frederick began after he spotted her cluttering one of the tables in the mess hall one day. He was already a little irritated with tomfoolery that day with Lissa’s usual antics and Vaike and Ruby slacking off in training. “Is all of this really necessary?”

“You heard Chrom. I’m the tactician, right? It’s my job to keep everyone alive, isn’t it? I don’t want to create a strategy that could so easily fall apart like at the Farfort!”

Sighing, Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. On the one hand, yes, her plan did kind of implode on itself, but for the time they had and what they had, he thought things went swimmingly. “Just...do not let this interfere with your physical training,” he relented. “All this strategy will be useless the moment you collapse to the ground because you stayed up late taking notes.”

“Fine.”

After breaking fast, Anali gathered her things and stored them away in her room. She got her training sword out and headed for the training dummies. Frederick said Anali was improving on her sword work, in his own critical way. But Anali wasn’t as confident in her sword work as she was in magic, specifically, Anali wasn’t confident in the way she held her sword. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her grip and send the sword flying in the middle of a battle.

Anali held her sword in both hands and went to attack the dummy’s neck. She repeated the motion several times, faster and faster each time.

“Working on your chopping technique?”

She whipped around, a short cry escaping her lips. Ruby stood behind her with one hand planted firmly on her hip, the other hanging loosely at her side. Anali sighed, placing her hand over her fluttering chest. “I’m just… trying to improve my grip,” explained Anali.

“Huh...” murmured Ruby. “Been working on that with Frederick, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I got some time.” She stretched her right arm enough that Anali could hear it pop. “Why don’t you show me what you got.”

“Uh...”

“What? What better way to work on your grip. C’mon, you’ve been working with Frederick, right?”

Lazily, Anali shrugged her shoulders and readied her blade. With a confident grin, Ruby took her sword out of her sheath. After the dagger she had bought, Anali shouldn’t have been surprised to find that the sword was gem-encrusted. “Hope you’re ready,” Ruby said, going in for the first attack.

Anali learned quickly that Ruby was fast, which she should have seen coming. Ruby was a thief, she had to be fast, it was part of the job description. Anali was going to have to watch out for that in the future, if she was going to be the Shepard’s traction she would need to be prepared for every possibility.

She learned quickly that Ruby could effortlessly switch between a standard and a reverse grip, blocking effortlessly as Anali parried with her. She was drunk duck floundering in the water when parred against Ruby. The blonde had years of swordwork under her belt.

Ruby’s moves were fluid, she’d slice her sword overhead, aiming for Anali’s head or neck area. Then she would turn towards her back, sinking low as she moved, and aim towards Anali’s knees. It was a struggle for her to stay upright with Ruby’s sheer speed alone.

To outsiders, it must have looked like Ruby was bullying Anali with how one-sided the match was. Ruby always moving forward, with Anali stumbling back, her arms spread out like she was trying to catch a breeze and fly. When Anali finally landed on her rump, Ruby used the back of her wrist to wipe her brow, despite the bandana she wore. “In short, I’d say you need to work on a bit more than just your grip,” said Ruby. “Your blocking needs a bit of work, as does your stances. And you kinda flailed our arms out like a bird.”

Ruby demonstrated this by throwing her arms out and around. Anali looked at the grass in front of her, her bow knitting together, dejected. She did not think she expected to be some brilliant swordswoman after a few weeks of training, but she wanted to think there was an improvement. “What you need to do to improve your grip is work out your wrists a bit,” Ruby explained, flexing her wrists to help emphasize her point. “Maybe work on your general strength. Better than focusing solely on the wrists. Try setting aside some time to do push-ups.”

Instinctively, Anali looked down at her arms. She gained a bit of weight since she met Chrom and Lissa, but they were still little more than bones with sleeves. “I probably could be pushed over easily,” she murmured.

“Well, I wasn’t going to come out and say it.” Ruby extended a hand out to Anali.

###### 

The next day, Anali found herself in the library with a game board with tiny blue and red figures littered out on its surface. Her head was rested in one hand while her fingers raked through her bangs. The irritations of working alone…

So if she spread out, the Pegasus Knights could sweep in with a nice little…

“Goodness me,” an accented voice said from over her shoulder, “I can practically see smoke rising from your head. Whatever could have you working in such a fevered tilt?”

Jumping slightly in her seat, Anali looked up to see Virion peering over her shoulder at the board. “Oh,” murmured Anali. She placed a hand over her chest as the initial shock wore off. Looking back down at the board, her hand began to fiddle with the little figurines. “I'm just using this to work out battle strategies and scenarios. Figured it was easier to use this first than to run everyone ragged for training exercises."

"How very clever," Virion said thoughtfully. He picked up one of the red pieces and held it close to his eye level to study it. "You even carved little enemy forces to fight them. I'm impressed. And that doesn't happen very often." He shrugged idly. "With other people, at least."

"Don't go patting me on the back yet," Anali heaved. "It's not as effective as I had hoped as long as I control both parties. I can't really plan for the unexpected when I already know who's going to do what."

Virion placed the figure back in its original spot. He strode over to the other side of the table, pulled out the chair, and seated himself down. "Then permit me to be your opponent," said Virion. "I shall strike with the nobility of the lion and defend with the grace of a swan!"

"Because swans are known for defending and battle?" Anali asked with a weary expression. Virion never really struck her as the tactical type of person. Then again, he never struck her as a fighter either, but on the other hand, how well did she know him? "Obviously. Em… okay, I accept. We'll take turns moving units until one of us claims the other's commander, okay?"

"Agreed and agreed again!" Virion cracked his knuckles. "Please begin, by all means."

Why did Anali suddenly feel dread surfacing in the pit of her stomach?

In a surprising turn of events, their game was much more heated than Anali would have thought. She did not give Virion nearly enough credit as he disserved. Not only was he able to counter with ease, he quickly took out most of Anali's units. However, there was a large difference between the pair's strategies; Virion was willing to sacrifice as many units as possible to keep his commander safe.

"Wait hold!" she exclaimed. Her left hand pushed back her bangs in exasperation. "I-I need to… Damn…"

"If only you could if this weren't just a game," Virion said with a chuckle. He leaned back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. "But alas, this is war. And this is checkmate, my good lady."

"Blast!" Anali cursed as her forehead collided with the table. "Yes, yes, you win."

"I told you I was both a lion and a swan, did I not?" boasted Virion.

Anali lifted her head off the table. "More like a chicken and a donkey!" she snapped. "I may not be some noble lord, but your strategy wasn't exactly what I'd call honorable!"

"Heavens!" Virion gasped. "Aren't we plainspoken."

"Regardless, I appreciate the practice and your assistance." Anali collected the game pieces and placed them into a small pouch. "But I need to get back on the training field."

"B-but, I've barely had time to gloat!"

"Ah, but in an actual war, the loser is never present to witness the gloating," Anali replied with a smug grin.

After she collapsed the game board, Anali collected her belongings into her arms, then left the room with Virion pleading for another game. However, she couldn't tell if it was because Virion found genuine enjoyment in their game, or because he wanted another opportunity to gloat. He even offered to help Anali with her archery in exchange for another game. Given that the last time Anali tried her hand at archery, Kellam nearly took an arrow to the knee, she almost took him up on that offer.

However, the last thing Anali wanted to do was lose the muscle she was beginning to build up because she spent so much time in her books and notes. She needed to keep training with the others, build up her skill, and keep her weight under control. As Frederick said she couldn't afford to let herself go with everyone else working so hard.

That evening Anali sat in a corner of the stable with a book Sumia lent her, watching the young woman in question brushing one of the horses. According to Sumia, the book was about a fictionalized event of the alleged lost princess of Valentia. Historically the Fell Dragon whipped out the Valentian royal family in one fell swoop. For years it was thought one princess survived the destruction, but it was never proven.

At the moment, however, Anali found it a bit difficult to concentrate, as Sumia was listing off various horse-care tidbits. "So do you have one of your own?" Anali asked. "A horse or pegasus, I mean."

Her lips pursed to the side in thought. "Hmmm… Not yet," said Sumia, "haven't really quite found one that I'm in sync with."

"Oh…" Anali said thoughtfully.

There was a knock at the stable door, Chrom stood in the doorway. Sumia's eyes lit up at the sight. "Captain!" she said. Sumia only took one step forward before she stumbled.

Anali quickly got onto her knees and reached out for Sumia. Her arms hooked around Sumia's midsection, keeping her somewhat upright, but not on the floor. "Sumia!" Chrom gasped at the sight. He cleared his throat as his eyes wandered to the far corner. "Those boots of yours again?"

"No!" Sumia said, suddenly upright on her feet. "I mean yes! I mean…"

"Anything we can do for you Chrom?" Anali asked quickly.

“Yes! Yes, there is,” Chrom said, his eyes forward once again. “In the morning, the Shepherds will be marching to Regna Ferox.”

“Regna Ferox?” questioned Anali. Hadn’t she seen the name on a map? It was somewhere… North East?

“A unified kingdom to the North of Ylisse,” Sumia explained. “It’s inhabited by barbarians…or so it’s said.”

“Warriors are what they are,” Chrom corrected. “And with Plegia being more persistent and the growing number of Risen, Ylisse will require their strength. Typically, the Exalt would request such aid in person, however, given the rise in numbers…well, the people might worry should my sister suddenly leave the capital. So the task has been passed to us.”

His eyes wandered to Anali. “This mission is voluntary, and I was hoping our tactician would-”

“Of course!” Anali beamed, she held Sumia’s book close to her chest. “I’ll have a few strategies ready should the worse happen.”

Slowly, Sumia rubbed the back of her head, her brow arched slightly. “Yes, Sumia?” asked Chrom.

“I-I’d volunteer,” Sumia admitted, she started fiddling with her fingers. “It’s just that…I’m not sure I’m quite ready for a proper mission just yet. I’d probably just get in the way.”

“Well, I’m sure we can work it out so you could stay behind the main group if a battle is met,” said Chrom. He turned his gaze to Anali. “We can arrange that, right?”

Anali nodded. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be that difficult.”

“It’s your choice, of course. But some lessons can only be learned on the battlefield.”

The ash-haired woman avoided eye-contact with her prince and captain. “W-Well…” her voice trailed off, her porcelain cheeks carried the slightest blush. “If you think it wise, Captain.”

“Just stay with me and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, yes!” she blurted out with the brightest smile in her arsenal. Sumia’s face suddenly flushed upon realizing how rash her outburst was and tried to compose herself again. “I mean – Yes, sir, I’ll do that.”

“Happy to hear that,” Chrom said with a grin. “We’ll be meeting at sunrise tomorrow for roll call, it will take us a couple of days to get to the Longfort. Oh! And Anali,” Chrom glanced back at her, “Regna Ferox is rather infamous for its year-round cold weather. So be sure to pack warmly.”

Anali gave him a slight salute before the blue-haired prince disappeared back into the hallway. She looked back at Sumia with a bold grin and shaking shoulders. “What?” Sumia asked puzzled. Snickering, Anali placed the book in front of her face, as she bent over double. With her cheeks puffed up, Sumia tossed the horse brush at Anali. “Glad one of us could find the humor in all that.”

The next morning, Anali stood outside of the garrison, a little surprised by the turnout. For starters, Lissa was amongst their numbers that day. Not to say she couldn’t handle herself, but from what Anali understood, Lissa would have died, or at least have been seriously injured, in the first Risen attack had it not been for Marth. It certainly explained why Lissa was so shaken up when Frederick and Anali finally found them. But had that been Anali, she likely would have been a little apprehensive to go out on a march like this.

Virion was also amongst their numbers, now dressed in the very same attire he wore on that night he showed up in a month ago. Even Donnel was geared up and ready to go. The rest was to be expected, Sully, Stahl, Vaike, Miriel, Ruby, Frederick, and Chrom. Anali felt like there was someone else besides her and Sumia, but she couldn’t think of who…

They traveled the day, and when they set up camp that night, Miriel mentioned that they were a little less than halfway there. It would take another day-and-a-half to get to the Longfort. They set up camp for the night, and when that was done, Anali sat in the mess tent, flipping through a book of Feroxi history, hoping to find something that could come in handy. Around her, a few of the others had engaged in a small arm-wrestling tournament. Things only got exciting when it was narrowed down to Sully and Vaike. Could have gone either way, but in the end, Sully won.

The next day was filled with much the same. The air had grown cooler, especially as night fell with a strong wind so cold that even Anali’s coat didn’t leave her satisfied. That night, she found herself conversing with Sully, Sumia, and Ruby about Sumia’s ‘flower fortunes,’ a concept that Anali just could not wrap her mind around. Sumia explained it as being faced with two options, then plucking off flower petals one by one. “So, it’s pretty much a ‘he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not’ thing?” asked Ruby.

“I-it’s kind of fun,” Sumia defended.

“B-b-but-”

“I’d just let it go, Rube,” Sully said with a wave of the hand. “She’s been doin’ this sort of thing for years.”

Outside the women’s tent, the trio heard an odd gawking sound, like a dying goose. The girls hurried into the tent, expecting to find a Risen ripping apart a poor animal. But instead, they found Lissa. Lissa bent over double, arms wrapped around her waist, laughing so hard she was crying. “Gods damn it, Lissa!” snapped Sully. She started to rub her temple, equal parts exasperated, and relieved. “I thought we were under attack or something!”

“Sorry… Sorry…” Lissa whizzed, as she stood up straight.

“Geez,” Ruby crossed her arms, “what’s got your feathers in a bunch?”

Breaking into another fit of laughter, Lissa pointed at the far end of the tent. Someone had pinned a portrait of Chrom… naked. Tastefully, but naked all the same. In one hand he carried the Falchion and in the other, a set of scales. At the foot of the image were the words _‘CHROM WANTS YOU.’_ “What the hell am I looking at?” Sully asked plainly.

Lissa fell to her knees, snorting all the while. Anali stared at the poster with her brow arched and cheeks steadily turning red. Sumia had gone completely red, her hands both balled up in front of her mouth. Sully and Ruby’s faces mirrored each other, blank-faced and staring. “Seriously, what the hell am I looking at?” Sully asked again.

“This has… Frederick’s fingerprints written… all over it!” Lissa cackled.

A tiny little moan escaped Sumia's lips before she about-faced and ran out of the tent. “I can’t-!”

“Eh?! Sumia it’s just a drawing!” Sully called chasing after her.

Ruby, shaking her head ushered Lissa out of the tent before the princess could pass out from laughing. Anali was left inside the tent, staring at the poster. Damn it, she could tear her eyes off the stupid thing. Anali could not deny the fact that Chrom was handsome, and his sleeveless arm left little to the imagination. But she really should not assume it was an accurate depiction.

An uncomfortable flush spread across Anali’s cheeks when she realized what she was thinking. She should not be thinking of her friend like this. She plucked the poster off the pin, crumpled it into a ball, and made a mental note to toss it into a fire pit when she had the chance.

###### 

By morning there were a few murmurs about the posters that showed up around camp. According to the rumors, Frederick attempted to boost morale amongst them. After Chrom realized what Frederick had done he scoured the camp searching for every single one.

It was estimated that they would reach the Longfort by late afternoon if not early evening. Anali rode on horseback with Lissa, seated behind her on the saddle. “So you’re adjusting okay, right?” the blonde princess asked. “Not too nervous about this mission.”

“I’m fine.” Anali nodded, even if Lissa couldn’t see her. “I’m just the tactician. It’s not as though I’ll be part of some big political debate.”

“I dunno,” said Lissa, “if things with Plegia and the Risen get really bad, you will need to be part of war meetings.”

“Well, yeah but-”

“So there is a good chance Chrom would want you to meet with the Khan. If something goes wrong, you’ll need to know what’s going on.”

Anali’s brow creased, Lissa had made a few good points, some that she hadn’t quite thought of. But what’s the worse that could happen in Regna Ferox? They had reason to fear the Risen too, they could benefit from this alliance just as much as Ylisse would.

She jumped slightly when Lissa pulled on the reigns of the horse and they came to a stop. “Is that what I think it is?” Lissa asked before she dismounted her horse.

Anali followed Lissa's example without much grace and fell to her knees. She looked up as she got back onto her feet. A malevolent creature stood in the open field, surrounded by frost on the grass. Its wings drooped on either side of it and its head was bent low. There was a blotch of red on the creature’s right-wing that stood out against its snowy coat. “It’s a pegasus, all right,” Chrom said, suddenly beside the two. “I think it’s hurt.

Slowly, Chrom took a step towards the pegasus. The creature reared back on its hind legs, letting out a shrill whinny as it kicked its forelegs. Reactively, Anali held her arms up in front of her as Chrom recoiled. Lo and behold, the very reason why she was nervous around equines. True, Anali felt like she had gotten better since Frederick pulled her on to Cecil. But if she was the one behind the reigns… Yikes.

“Down girl!” Chrom projected. “Easy there! Easy!”

“Milord,” Frederick spoke up. He looked about ready to grab Chrom should the Pegasus think of charging. “Perhaps there is another way to deal with this.”

“Have you any suggestion, then?”

“Captain?” Sumia spoke up. She swung her leg over, dismounting Baldulf with Sully still in the saddle. She opened one of the saddlebags and headed towards the royals and Anali. “If I may-”

Sumia abruptly fell forward, she yelped and held whatever she got from her bag close to her chest. Effortlessly, Frederick caught her in one arm before her breath could melt the frost on the grass. “Careful, milady,” Frederick said, helping her stand upright. “It wouldn’t be much help if you end up trampled.”

“Eh, y-yes of course,” Sumia said with a blush. “Thank you, Frederick.” She turned her attention back to Chrom. “As I was saying, Captain, I can take care of this.”

Before Chrom could argue, Sumia slowly walked up to the pegasus, her hand held out to the mare, revealing a couple of sugar cubes in her palm. Sumia whispered a few soothing words to the pegasus as she took a few more careful steps towards her. When Sumia was close enough, the pegasus sniffed at her hand, before it took the sugar cubes into her mouth. With a gentle smile, Sumia ran her hand gently on the mare’s muzzle. “There we go,” she said sweetly. “That’s a good girl. Shhh, I won’t hurt you.”

The pegasus’ wings relaxed, its breathing steadied. She allowed Sumia closer to nuzzle it as the young woman whispered its fears away. “Whoa,” Lissa breathed out. “How’d she calm it so quickly?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Chrom said in awe.

“Oh, it’s…it’s nothing,” Sumia said with a blush forming on her face. “You just need to know how to talk to them.” She took a moment to clear her throat. “You all go on ahead. I’ll dress her wounds and catch up as soon as we’re able.”

“We can make time to wait for you.”

“Thank you, Captain, but I can manage,” insisted Sumia. “Every moment is precious when all of Ylisse is in danger.”

Chrom’s brow creased, yes, she was right, they had already used up so much time traveling. But it did not sit right with him to just leave Sumia on her own. With what little they did know about the Risen, they were fully capable of attacking in the broad daylight. Sumia was fast, but how was she in battle? How capable was the very woman who was infamous for tripping over nothing? “Why don’t we just let her catch up with us later?” Anali asked him in a hushed tone.

“Are you sure?” Chrom asked matching her tone in the reply. “What if-”

“Have you seen Sumia ride?” Anali asked with a raised brow. “Once she gets the pegasus’ injury dressed she’ll catch up in no time.”

The prince glanced back up at Sumia. The pegasus seemed to have taken an instant liking to her, nibbling at her hair which prompted a small fit of giggles. True, Sumia was one of the best riders Chrom had come across, and…if he kept mulling over this they were just going to waste more time. “Right, then,” he said with a nod. “Be safe, Sumia.”

“As you command, sir!” Sumia beamed as she gave Chrom a salute.

Sumia took a bag off of Baldulf, no doubt containing her cloak and her necessary supplies. Anali let Lissa onto the horse first before she awkwardly pulled herself up. When Frederick pulled himself back onto his horse, he ordered everyone onward.

As they continued to travel, snow was underfoot, the trees were dusted with white powder, and the wind grew ever more frigid. Despite her coat, Anali was shivering, her breath visible in the air. She felt like tiny knives were stabbing into her nose, her cheeks, her fingers. She soon decided that the snow was beautiful, but she did not like the cold. At all.

After two hours of travel in the cold, both Chrom and Frederick came to an abrupt stop, and Frederick sent the order for the others to stop as well. In front of them was a grand fortress of heavy brick with its iron gates closed. There were two closed off flights of stairs on either the left and the right, that lead up to the towering stronghold. Impressed, Anali’s brow rose as she released a low whistle. “So this is the fortress?” she asked no one in particular.

“Yes, the Longfort,” replied Chrom. He looked over his right should in Anali’s direction. “It stretches across the border of Ylisse and Regna Ferox.”

“The Khans that rule Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners,” Frederick explained, his voice carrying over to the rest of the campaign. “Don’t mistake a lack of hospitality for open hostility. This simply calls for a bit of diplomacy.”

“Negotiation’s never been my strongest suit,” Chrom murmured to himself. His horse took a couple of steps forward, then it turned to the left, allowing its rider to look at the army. He spoke up. “Remember, everyone: your actions here reflect upon Ylisse. So, I don’t want to hear of anyone acting out, or provoking the Khan or his soldiers.”

Anali bit the inside of her cheek, Maribelle’s words from a few weeks bag suddenly hit her like a sack of brick She was presentable, yes? Of course, she was! And Anali wouldn’t dream of either acting out or provoking. Odds were, if Lissa was right, she would be asked to listen during a meeting. And then she would curl up somewhere warm and work on some new strategies.

Oh, wait. She was supposed to be cooking tonight….

Chrom dismounted his horse, then approached the front gate. “Halt!” a woman from the upper level shouted. One could see a woman with short blonde hair amongst her heavy grey and green armor. “State your business!”

“In the name of House Ylisse, I seek an audience with the Khans!” Chrom said stepping forward with a firm, clear tone.

“Not another step, my bold lad!” the woman shouted, pointing a finger at him. “I’ve my lances at the ready!”

Immediately, Frederick urged Cecil forward. “Hold, milady!” called Frederick. “We are not your enemy! Exalt Emmeryn herself sent us to discuss matters of mutual interest.”

“My only interest is keeping you out of Regna Ferox, brigand!” snapped the woman.

“B-brigand?!” stuttered Frederick. He was about ready to throw diplomacy out the window. His prince and lord, a bandit?! “Now see here-”

“You think you’re the first ‘Ylisseans’ to try to cross our border?” the woman asked, slamming a hand against the stone parapet. She was all but yelling down. “I have the authority to fell, such imposters, where they stand!”

“How dare you!” Frederick snapped, his own patience was beginning to wain, a rarity amongst missions like this. “You are in the presence of Prince Chrom, the Exalt’s own blood!”

“Ha! And I’m the queen of Valm!” the woman replied mockingly, she even pretended to flounce her hair for further emphasis. She pointed to the Shepherds, specifically Anali. “Pray tell, why would a Ylissean royal be traveling with a Grimleal? I understand there’s been tension between Ylisse and Plegia these days.”

Anali could feel the eyes on her as she looked down at her coat sleeve. Damn her, Anali should have thought about this. Even if she had a Plegian look about her, her coat could not have made it any more obvious than if she wore a sign around her neck that read _‘I’M PLEGIAN.’_

“You do realize impersonating royalty is a capital offense?” continued the woman. “Perhaps we should settle this the Feroxi way. Do you claim to be the prince of Ylisse? Then prove it on the battlefield!”

Chrom grit his teeth; this was just the sort of thing Emmeryn wanted to avoid. “Please, good lady!” Chrom pleaded in a last-ditch effort. “If you’d just listen-”

“I’ve heard quite enough!” the woman cut him off. She turned to her men on either side of her, then brought her arm downward like a falling ax. “Attack!”

And for a few agonizing seconds, everything had gone straight to hell.

A line of Feroxi soldiers stood along the parapets, each one held a lance in their right hands. In perfect unison, they lifted their lances over their shoulders and hurled them straight at Chrom.

Anali’s breath was caught in her throat while panic rose from her stomach and into her chest. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute. She needed to move, she needed to do something, she needed… she needed…

She needed to keep Lissa safe.

The princess leaped off their horse and tried to run for her brother. Anali threw herself off, tackling Lissa to the ground. Lissa screamed and thrashed against the older girl; she had even gone as far as to bite Anali in the arm. Logic and reason were not going to get through to her. It would not matter if Anali argued that Chrom, and by extension Lady Emmeryn, would not want Lissa in the line of danger like this. Or that the other Shepherds would be at Chrom’s side before anything could happen. Lissa was as reasonable as a panicked fox.

Around them, Vaike, Sully, Stahl, and Kellam were already charging towards their prince with weapons brandished. Donnel was in a state of confusion, while the remaining three trailed close behind. Frederick was the closest to Chrom, his horse was in full gallop.

And in a flash, Chrom was gone.

A shrill whinny caught everyone’s attention, a lone pegasus glided through the air with the prince seated right behind its rider.

###### 

Chrom’s breath was caught in his throat, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He had been two seconds away from withdrawing Falchion before the lances could strike. Even if he succeeded in cutting down a couple of them, he wouldn’t have been able to prevent serious injury. Until the pegasus rider grabbed a hold of him as they swooped down, that is.

But the sudden rescue wasn’t what surprised him the most. No, what surprised him, was the rider.

“Sumia?” he questioned.

“Better hold tight, Captain,” Sumia said firmly, her eyes kept forward as she instructed the pegasus’ path through the air. “Could get bumpy.”

“Uh…right,” Chrom said dumbly.

The young woman let out a slight chuckle before she looked back at her captain over her shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” she assured him gently.

All Chrom could do at the moment was stare in awe of her. This was the same sweet, clumsy, demure little-sister type of girl he had known for quite a few years now. Now that girl was replaced with someone with such an air of confidence and conviction.

Chrom knew full well that Sumia’s riding abilities were impressive. She entered the Shepherds as a Pegasus Knight, taught and recommended by Phila herself, but Chrom had seen her fly so few times. He did not truly know how skilled she was in the air. How could Chrom not see it?

It was the line of Feroxi archers that broke Chrom out of his stupor. He did not know much about pegasi, but what he did know was that they were vulnerable to arrows. “Sumia!” Chrom declared, drawing out Falchion.

“Right!” Sumia returned, pulling at the pegasus’ reigns.

###### 

The pegasus glided down until she met with even ground, then she stopped with a gallop. Lissa took Anali by surprise by shoving her off, then clamored to her feet. She sprinted for the pegasus and collided into Chrom as soon as he had fully dismounted. “I’m so relieved I made it in time, Captain,” breathed out Sumia.

“That goes double for me,” Chrom replied, rubbing his sister's back. He looked back at the pegasus Sumia rode and realized that the creature looked familiar. “This isn’t the same ornery pegasus we met on the road, is it?!”

Immediately, Lissa pushed herself away from Chrom to stare at the mare. “Oh, yeah!” she said in awe. “Wow, she really calmed down since we last saw her.”

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?” Sumia smiled, running her hand through the pegasus’ mane. “One you really get to know her, that is.”

“Well, many thanks to you both,” Chrom said, smiling at both pegasus and rider.

“I think we all had best focus on the situation at hand,” Frederick said, trotting up to the sight. His face was red and most likely not from the cold.

“All right,” the prince exhaled. “The Feroxi way it is. Anali, any ideas?”

The white-haired woman had risen onto her feet, she looked back up at the fortress as the general shouted orders at her men. The gates were sealed closed, with the two upper doors opening very briefly to let a few soldiers out. Where was the general? Probably somewhere in the back, waiting for them. “We’re going to want to box in the general, so to speak,” said Anali. “Our best play is to split up into two groups, find our way up, then attack the general on both sides. It won’t matter how many soldiers we take out unless we take her out, that’s what she’ll want.”

Anali quickly divided the group into two, which was a bit difficult due to the odd number of units they had. Stahl was in charge of keeping Lissa safe when she wasn’t healing them. Virion would be at a bit of a disadvantage given that he could only really attack from a far range. “Sully,” Anali said with her hands up in front of her, “I know you’ll have some grievance with this, but I need you two to stick together.”

In return, Sully shot Anali such a nasty look it could have started fires, but she did not argue. The last two people she wanted to pair up were Donnel and Kellam (once she remembered he was there, that is). Donnel was still a little inexperienced, but Kellam was the best person Anali could think of to help the boy out.

The battle broke out when the Feroxi warriors made the next move. The most obvious thing to do now was to fight their way through the first wave. That wasn’t going to be the hardest part. No, the hard part would be getting through the doors. There was a chance that Sumia could fly up on her pegasus, but the archers were sure to shoot her down before she could even get a hit on the general. And then there was the fact that the general would be no pushover. Whoever landed the finishing blow could not do it alone without the woman retaliating.

“Anali heads up!” Kellam shouted with a javelin in hand.

Obediently, Anali dropped to her hands and knees, and immediately wished she hadn’t. The javelin sailed over Anali, striking a Feroxi soldier about to fire an arrow at her. Then Donnel came running up after the javelin and finished off the soldier. “All right there, Ms. Anali?” Donnel asked, helping her onto her feet.

“Yes,” Anali replied with a brief smile. “Thank you. Donny!”

She shoved the boy out of the way and slashed her sword into the arm of an oncoming soldier. “Let’s try not to loiter.” Anali pushed a few stray locks of hair out of her eyes. “Allows them to attack.”

Chrom bashed the soldier on the head with the hilt of his sword, then threw them to the side. He looked over his shoulder, the snow on the ground was beginning to stain with red. It would have been quite the sight to look at, if the reason for that wasn‘t bloodshed, ironically enough.

He spotted Anali, she was giving Miriel brief instructions as the two battled against oncoming soldiers with Fire and Thunder magic. And Chrom couldn't help but smile to himself as he stabbed another soldier. She had only joined them for two missions but it already felt like Anali had been with them for years. He supposed that was what the battlefield could do. 'The blood of the covenant was thicker than the water of the womb,' after all.

Miriel ran as best as she could with her cloak weighing her down, and her boots were not made for snow. She nearly slipped twice, thankfully she was able to catch herself both times. Gods know what would have happened if she didn't. Opening her tome she hurled her hand behind her, fire hit the sword-wielding soldier that was chasing behind her. Pleased with herself, Miriel pushed her glasses back into place, then continued on towards her destination.

At the foot of the stairs, stood a Feroxi soldier wielding a lance at the ready. Miriel charged right towards him, her tome opened, balanced in the palm of her hand. A blast of fire materialized in front of her and shot itself towards the soldier. He dodged, then pushed forward, aiming his lance at Miriel. The red-haired Mage slid to the side, following it up with another spell. The soldier fell to the ground and rolled around in the snow to put out the flames. He would be injured, but he wouldn't die. "Asinine knave," Miriel murmured as she picked up the fallen lance.

There was something silver tied to it, the key to the door. Just as Anali predicted. After removing the key, Miriel hurried up the flight of stairs to unlock the door. Over at the left-side door, Anali had successfully retrieved the key and unlocked the door. She hardly had a moment to congratulate herself on a job well done, when a Feroxi soldier grabbed her by the ankle and pulled.

Anali was swept off her feet; her elbow slammed against the edge of a step, causing Anali to freeze up for a moment. Her mind went blank and her vision went white for what felt like ages.

The worst was over, she forced herself to focus back on the battle at hand, then she could worry about her elbow later. Of course, now she was going to have to work with her left hand, this was going to be difficult. The soldier pointed the tip of his blade right at her. Anali only narrowed rolled out of the way before it could connect. The soldier lifted his sword again when blood squirted out from behind him. Gasping for breath, the man slumped to the side. "No loitering," Frederick said, shaking blood off his lance.

Nodding, Anali forced herself up as Frederick galloped past her. She followed close behind as the others began to ascend either flight. The Feroxi general shouted orders while her knights fought off against the Shepherds. It wasn't out of cowardice, it was the real test. If the Shepherds were who they claimed, then they should have been able to make their way towards her, and take her out. The Shepherds were renown in Ylisse for their strength, after all.

He overestimated the power of democracy, and therefore he made the error of leaving his ax back in Ylisstol. A mistake he would not make again. Frederick drove his lance through the shoulders of many of Regna Ferox's soldiers. They attacked his liege, they could have killed, or at least seriously injured him had Sumia not acted when she did. Frederick should have been closer to Chrom before they even launched their lances. The best way to make up for this was to secure victory against the general and get into Regna Ferox to the Khan.

Clicking his tongue Frederick snapped the reigns, urging Hermia up the stairs. His lance cut through Feroxi soldiers as he made a b-line for General Raimi, one of the East-Khan's finest soldiers if he had to take a guess. Loath as he was to admit it, Anali was right; they were not getting into Regna Ferox until they defeated Raimi.

The blonde-haired woman watched the battle play out intently, her lance held right beside her, but she never moved once. Not until she saw the man on horseback in the corner of her eye. She blocked Frederick's oncoming lance before it could do any damage to her. Raimi leaped back, then tore forward aiming her lance at the Great Knight. Frederick encouraged his horse forward, his lance struck her before she could hit him. "Impressive," Raimi said pulling herself back up. "Not many bandits have made it this far. However, it's not impossible."

Raimi and Frederick exchanged and blocked several attacks. If he could just find a good opening he could successfully end this. It was as Sumia said before, every moment they wasted could cost Ylisse. Just one good shot and-

pegasus feathers mingled with falling snow as something swooped down, straight at Raimi. Sumia's lance grazed at Raimi's cheek, a thin cut quickly appeared. Dumbstruck by Sumia's sudden action, she failed to notice Frederick's oncoming attack. His lance penetrated through Raimi's armor and broke into her skin.

Crying out in pain, Raimi dropped her lance, and fell onto one knee, she clutched her injury, panting. "Then your claims were… were true…" Raimi said breathily. She took a deep breath and rose to her feet. "Soldiers hold!"

Murmurs rose as Feroxi's soldiers lowered their weapons. Raimi slowly hobbled to the balcony to look out at the soldiers on both sides below. "A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom," Raimi said, her voice still strong and clear. "I truly took you for brigand impostors. But no frauds could ever wage battle as you and your men have! I will send word of your arrival to the capital and escort you there personally."

"That would be most appreciated, thank you," Chrom said with a nod.

Raimi saluted before she walked off. Slowly the Feroxi soldiers filed off as the Shepherds regrouped. "Wow," Anali muttered under her breath. Lissa stood beside her with her elbow in hand and her healing staff in the other. "Her whole demeanor changed."

"In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words," Frederick said, dismounting his mare. He sighed. "I should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here…"

The light green glow from Lissa's staff died down. She released Anali's arm, then rubbed her hands together, she had a few more to heal, but not in this cold. "Can we get going, Chrom?" asked Lissa.

"Yes," her brother replied, "it's not getting any warmer."

Outside of Castle Ferox, the Shepherds set up camp. Lissa told Anali not to strain her arm, as it would be sore for the next couple of days, and to rub vulnerary on it every morning and night before going to sleep. To Anali's dismay, Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick - well, more Chrom and Lissa than Frederick - asked her to join them to meet the Khan. Wasn't it enough that she had kitchen duty that night?

In reality, Castle Ferox was quite warm, but it felt so much colder than Ylisstol Castle. It was a dark brick building, its interior walls were untouched, and there were very few people inside. It made Anali homesick for Ylisstol. Raimi leads the way, having been taken care of by one of Ferox's healers; her injuries were not too, too serious. She leads them to the throne room where she turned back to the quartet. "Prince Chrom," she said curtly. "Please wait here while I summon the Khan."

"Of course."

Anali watched Raimi's retreating figure, then asked once she was out of earshot, "The Khan is away?"

"Out training, I'm sure," said Lissa. "The Khan's of Ferox prefer battle to politics."

"Or rather, battle is their politics," Chrom corrected.

"Ah," Anali said, putting on a weak, lopsided grin. "I can picture him now, a giant of a man of unparalleled thew. His broad chest covered in hair, as his tunic can hardly fit over his muscles."

"Am I now? Please, do go on."

Anali’s expression dropped as her face started to turn very, very red. That was not a man's voice. A woman, a rather attractive woman at that, walked up to the four. Her skin was beautifully brown, her hair was a light shade of blonde and pulled back into a wild ponytail. She wore dark red and white armor under a tight black leather dress. Anali wanted to go bury herself immediately.

"You're the-?!" Chrom stuttered before he caught himself. He cleared his throat. "That is to say… The Khan, I presume?"

"One of them, yes," the woman replied. "I'm the East-Khan, Flavia Alexandrov. I apologize for the trouble at the border, Prince Chrom. You are welcome in Regna Ferox."

"Thank you," said Chrom. "But I'm confident we can put that misunderstanding behind us. Is it true bandits posing as Ylisseans have been ransacking your border villages?"

"Yes, those Plegian dogs!" Flavia spat back. She eyed Anali for a moment, specifically her coat. Instantly Anali tried to hide the purple eyes on her sleeve to no avail. "We found documents proving as much on the corpse of one of their captains. Plegia must seem some benefit in raising tensions between your kingdom and ours."

"Damn them!" snapped Chrom. "Ah… Forgive me, Your Grace. That was… indelicately put."

"Ha! Damn them and damn delicacy!" chortled Flavia. "Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech."

"In that case, you should have a word with your damn border guards…"

"Now that's Feroxi diplomacy! Yes, I like you already," Flavia said, clapping Chrom on the shoulder. Folding her arms, she cleared her throat. "I know why you come, Prince, but regrettably, I cannot provide any Feroxi troops for Ylisse."

"What?!" Lissa gasped. "Why not?!"

"I lack the authority."

"Huh?" Chrom asked without thinking. "But aren't you the Khan?"

"One of them, yes," replied Flavia. "In Ferox, the Khans of the East and West hold a tournament every few years. The victor acquires total sovereignty over both kingdoms. And that means they have the final say when it comes to forging alliances. The West-Khan won the last tournament, you see, so…"

"Then we are to receive no aid?" Lissa's voice quivered.

"Not if you give up so easily!" snapped Flavia. "The next tournament just so happens to be on the morrow, you see, and I require champions."

"What does that have to do with us?" asked Chrom.

"Raimi informs me your Shepherds are quite capable," Flavia said with a sly grin. "Perhaps you would consider representing the East in the tournament? If you win and I become ruling Khan, I will grant your alliance."

Chrom thought about this for a moment. "I would have thought Ylisseans had no place in such Feroxi traditions," he said.

"On the contrary," Flavia said matter of factly. "The Khans themselves do not fight - they choose champions to represent them. Otherwise, our land would be rife with blood feuds and dead Khans."

"I guess that makes sense," murmured Anali. Well, it barely made sense.

"We don't involve comrades or kin for the same reasons. Over time, it was decided the tournament should be fought by outsiders. Although that never included foreign royalty… that I know of. Regardless, it is your choice to make."

"There is no choice, East-Khan," said Chrom. "My people are desperate. We face not only Plegia's constant attacks but now the added threat of the Risen. If fighting for you is the quickest way for an alliance, then we will take up our steel."

"Oh, I like you, Prince Chrom," laughed Flavia. "I do hope you survive the tournament. Come, I'll show you the arena where the tournament is held."

Anali fell back with Lissa, the poor girl was looking a little put out at the moment. "Are you alright, Lissa?" she asked.

"Em… Yeah, I guess," she said, fiddling with a lock of hair. "I just assumed it would be a little easier than this. I mean, what if something happens to Emm or someone else because we've been gone too long?"

"Well, I'm sure Phila will be fighting tooth and nail to keep the Exalt safe," said Anali. "And we still have a few of the Shepherds back in Ylisstol."

"I guess," Lissa rubbed her hands together. "I'll have to get used to these sorts of things, I suppose."

###### 

Flavia showed them the arena, a nice circular building that felt more welcoming than Flavia's domain. It helped Anali get a better idea of what the battle flow could be like, she was already beginning to size up the Shepherds in her head, trying to figure out who should be in the arena tomorrow while she asked Flavia the rules of the tournament. If the West-Khan's champions were anything like Raimi at the gate, then Anali needed to think this thoroughly through.

But, sadly, she couldn't look through her notes just now. Not only did Frederick want to squeeze in a little training, but Anali was also on kitchen duty. And she had never really cooked before, from what she could remember, anyway. And it did not help that everyone had their own preferences.

It was not until she started cooking the local game Donnel trapped and/or snared did Anali realized how tired she was. Of course, she was, the day was long, and Flavia's soldiers were no pushovers. As she started chopping vegetables to add to the meat for a beef stew, Anali stifled a yawn. "Finished training for today, Anali?" Chrom asked, walking into the kitchen tent.

Anali looked over her shoulder. "Frederick wanted me to get in a little combat practice," she said. "I wanted to review a few battle histories before the tournament but…" She yawned again

"You should make sure to relax a bit," Chrom said, taking the mushrooms from Anali and started to mince them himself. "Put your feet up. Experienced soldiers rest when they can. With things getting heated up between the kingdoms and Risen you never know when the next battle might break out."

"So I've noticed," Anali said, rubbing one eye. She flipped over the bits of meat, then nearly leaped back to avoid getting burned by flying blood or oil. Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked back at Chrom with a smile. "Don't worry. I'll try and rest when I can. A lady needs her beauty sleep, after all."

Guiding the knife down the onion he was working on, Chrom's eyes snapped open. He kept pushing, even after the knife made contact with the cutting board. He successfully snapped the blade clean off the handle. Chrom stared at Anali, looking at her as though she just sprouted a third eye.

Anali blinked. "What?" she asked. "Did I say something?"

"Er, no… I-it's nothing. It's just that…" Chrom said. He placed the broken knife on the counter and grabbed a new one. He shrugged casually. "Well, I just didn't consider you the type to care about beauty and such… I suppose I've never really thought of you as a lady."

"Excuse me?!" Anali snapped turning away from the griddle.

If looks could kill, then the glare Anali was giving him would have incinerated Chrom on the spot. Wow, she was mad. All he just said was… Oh… "No! I mean - I didn't mean - not like that!" Chrom blurted out. The food was now laid forgotten. "That is to say, a 'lady,' per se… eh… You know, how you fight and strategize, and… Not to say a lady can't fight, but…” Exasperated he raked his fingers through his hair. “Gods, this is coming out all wrong."

'Coming out all wrong' indeed! Did Chrom actually think before he said anything? Anali could easily imagine Sully's reaction if she heard this. And she would have been downright pissed. "Good gods, Chrom!" Anali snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She could feel a dull ache in her injured elbow, but it was easy enough to ignore. "You're the scion of the royal family, aren't you?! Didn't they teach you manners at your fancy-schmancy schools growing up?"

"Oh, gods, yes! Of course, they did!" Chrom said, he almost sounded offended at the notion. His tutors were never the lively bunch. "We spent a whole term on etiquette!"

"Perhaps you could use another term, this time on how to talk with a lady!"

“It’s just that my image of a lady is someone prim and proper!” Chrom stressed. He wasn’t aiming to insult, far from it. If anything Anali should have taken it as a compliment! “You know, perfumed and pretty… Nothing like you at all!”

Anali scowled, her crossed hands balling into fists. A chill ran down Chrom’s spine. Anger looked… unsettling on Anali, and Chrom wasn’t sure if it was the fact that her eyes were red that added to the effect. Or maybe because he had never actually seen her mad before.

Wait, was she planning something? Some kind of revenge, a prank worth of Lissa?

Chrom held his hands up in defense. “Come on!” His voice cracked. Cracked. “It was just a joke! Haha…! Just a…” He paused, seeing that Anali’s expression had not changed in the slightest. All Chrom could do was gulp. “Gotta go!”

In a flash, Chrom was out of the tent. Following suit, Anali pushed the flap open, shouting, “Coward!” at the Prince’s retreating form. Closing the tent, she turned back to the griddle. “The nerve of him!”

So because she was a fighter and a strategist, that was supposed to make her less of a lady? How rude!

Well… maybe it was only fair, in a way. Anali easily forgot that Chrom was technically the scion of Ylisse. And after a display like that, she most certainly did not think of him as a gentleman. So they were even in that sense.

“But he didn’t need to say it out loud!” grumbled Anali. She sniffed, was something burning? Eyes widening, Anali bolted for the food on the fire. "Damn it!"

While it was not spoken, it was unanimously agreed that no one was counting the days until Anali was on cooking duty again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot changed in this one. The in-game Chapter 2 map is still cut it disturbed the story flow and didn’t add anything that wasn’t made clear by this point in-story.
> 
> The in-universe story of a lost Valentian princess was actually based off of the Anastasia myth. Technically Celica’s too, but I didn’t realize that until I was editing this chapter. Whoops.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven  
The Two Falchions**

Sumia was the first one in her tent to wake up that morning. It was still early, not even dawn yet. But she simply couldn’t doze off again. She was nervous, not just for herself, but for everyone who could be in the arena today. From what Chrom recounted after he met with the East-Khan, it sounded like the tournament had a few instances of bloodshed, if not full-blown deaths, in the past. Even if death could be avoided, there was still the fact that Ylisse was depending on this alliance, they just could not afford to lose.

She dressed in her tunic, skirt, and long gloves before she put on her cloak and her boots. She decided the first thing she would do was check up on the mare she more or less adopted yesterday, then she would check the armory tent to see if there was a sturdier lance Sumia could use. No one knew what Anali was planning, just that she was working out who to send into the arena. But it was always nice to be prepared.

Sumia liked Anali. She understood where Frederick and Captain Phila were coming from in their distrust in her…but she also couldn’t. If Anali had anything dastardly planned, then surely she would have done it by now. Surely enough time had passed for her to strike. And it seemed a bit odd that Anali would do something against Ylisse when she went all out to help the Farfort.

She heard about what happened in the Farfort, how Anali wanted to make sure the maidens the bandits rounded up were in safe hands before they properly attacked. How they had won the battle by employing a simple distraction and stir up a bit of confusion. How, if she wasn’t their tactician already, Anali most certainly was after that particular battle.

She had been nice to talk to while Sumia tended to the Shepherds horses, and it was nice to have someone to discuss books with. Origins be damned! It would go against everything Ylisse stood for if they just tossed Anali to the wayside when she needed help.

In their makeshift stable, the mare, who Sumia had taken to calling Rosella, looked like she had adjusted to her new surroundings quite nicely. She really was a sweetheart once she calmed down; and thankfully, she would come out of her ordeal no worse for wear. The injury to her wing was fairly minor, she proved yesterday that she could still fly on it after all. In all likelihood, Sumia was willing to bet that Rosella had been more spooked than anything else.

After changing Rosella’s bandages, Sumia scurried over to the armory and was instantly dumbstruck to find Frederick already there. He was studying one of the lances intently before he placed it back on the rack, then grabbed another for inspection. His cloak was hung up on one of the racks and he was dressed in his usual attire of a white shirt and black slacks. Not a wrinkle in place too. “Oh, Frederick!” Sumia gasped before she gave him a bright smile. “Good morning! What are you doing up so early?”

Frederick’s head whipped in Sumia’s direction as she walked up to him. “Good morning, Lady Sumia,” he greeted kindly. “I’m simply inspecting everyone’s weapons and armor to ensure all is well before the tournament.”

“But it’s not even dawn yet!” Then Sumia felt a bit silly. She was up before dawn; however, that was because she couldn’t sleep. Frederick, on the other hand, made it sound like this was a regular occurrence. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I have sworn to serve Chrom and the Shepherds to the best of my ability,” Frederick replied with the utmost pride. He even spoke with his best posture as though it would further emphasize his point. “As commander, Chrom bears a burden far heavier than any of ours. It would ill behoove me to neglect an opportunity to lessen the load.”

Sumia was only somewhat aware of the look she must have given him. Wide-eyed and full of admiration; if only she could have even a third of Frederick’s stamina. “He’s fortunate to have you!” she declared. “Imagine getting up this early just to check gear!”

“I did not stir this morn simply to satisfy myself to our battle readiness,” Frederick said matter-of-factly. With his eyes closed, he began to list off his morning activities like a professor to a lecture. “I also did my morning exercises, performed several weapon drills, and patrolled camp. Then I stoked the fire, readied the makings for this morning's tea, and consumed one boiled egg.”

“Er…” Sumia blinked, suddenly unsure of what to say anymore. She knew Frederick went above and beyond the call of duty, that was hardly a secret. This… this was going way, way above and beyond. What could she do with a fraction of his stamina?

“Oh!” Frederick snapped his eyes open. “And I scared off a flock of noisy birds that were nesting too near milord’s tent. Then, with no other pressing task, I took the time to inspect our equipment.”

“Good heavens,” Sumia said breathily. She was worn out just from hearing all of that.

Frederick’s back stiffened. Surely there were much better ways to converse with a lady such as Sumia. And this was most certainly not one of them. “Apologies, my lady,” he said upon clearing this throat. “You must find my prattle to be dull. I have often been criticized for what some consider to be an excess of zeal. Such devotion appears to make my comrades uneasy.”

“No, no!” Sumia shook her head. She held both fists close to her face, her eyes so wide it was a wonder there weren’t stars in them. “I think it’s wonderful!”

“You do?” Frederick asked dumbly. Well, this was a first. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Absolutely! You’re an inspiration, Frederick. There’s just no other word for it. Look at all you do for Chrom!” Slowly, Sumia’s expression dropped, her bravado was not quite diminished, but it certainly wasn’t the same as it was before. “It makes me wish I was more like you. I’m so sick of being the girl whose main contribution is falling on her face. I know we all need levity in these times, but I would still prefer to do more.”

A rose-pink shade soon dusted upon Frederick’s face as looking Sumia in the face soon became an overwhelming source of embarrassment. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted at length. “You’re the first person who has ever understood what I’m trying to do. Perhaps we should join our causes with each other. We should be the grease that keeps the Shepherds running smoothly.”

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the Pegasus Knight clapped her hands twice. “Now that’s a splendid idea!”

###### 

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, more and more of the Shepherds were beginning to wake. As much as Virion would like to say he just woke up as immaculate as ever, it simply was not the case. Especially after he spent several nights sleeping on a cot.

He woke up that morning with an envelope in his hand. The letter he had been working on for the past few weeks now. It was not as eloquent as Virion would have liked, less a letter, and more a series of questions. Was Rosanne in one piece? Had they given up looking for him? Was she safe? Virion managed to feet the fire a bit last night with all the crumpled balls of parchment thanks to that last question alone.

Virion did not reveal too much in the letter. If Walhart’s forces were to intercept the letter and glean information from it… That would have been nothing short of a disaster in the making.

In the mess tent, a light breakfast of milk porridge had been prepared, courtesy of Frederick, with a little help from Sumia. The tournament was set to take place around mid-day and until then, everyone was encouraged to do some training, but with the strict order not to overexert themselves. As far as anyone knew Anali was still working on their strategy.

As his comrades sparred off against each other, Vaike decided to set up a practice dummy and got out a dull axe. He hated waiting, especially if there was something as important as creating alliances on the line. Luckily Vaike was the type to work off his moods through solo-training.

“Would you be so kind as to put an end to your caterwauling?” Miriel spoke up, startling Vaike enough that he missed his target. “I’m trying to read, but I can’t hear myself think over your incessant grunting.”

The red-haired mage had on a thick winter cloak and her wide-brimmed hat as always. She had a book in her hand, suggesting she was walking around camp while treading. If Miriel was not doing her experiments or taking notes, then she was most likely reading. In all the time Vaike had known Miriel, her habit of reading while walking tended to nearly get her killed. The only reason she still had her head was because of someone else pulling her out of trouble.

Vaike simply shrugged and slung his axe over his shoulder. “You gotta give it your all when ya train,” he told her. “Or it’s just a waste of time.”

“Hm…” Miriel adjusted her specs as she thought. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense. The explosive release of air from the lungs generates power in peripheral muscles.”

“The peri-what muscles now?”

“And rapid spin attacks create a centripetal force that increases overall speed.” she continued, gripping her chin. “Fascinating! I imagine you used complex calculus to optimize your methods?”

Vaike stood slack-jawed, his axe-hand hanging limp at his side. He took a moment to shake his head, then started to rub the back of his neck. “Lady, from what you just said I understood ‘fascinating,’ and that’s about it.”

“Surely you developed these skills of yours by calculating the forces involved?” Miriel asked inquisitively.

The blond axe-wielder waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t need a buncha math mumbo jumbo. I do it all by instinct!”

Gripping her chin still, Miriel started into the distance to think. She tapped her elbow with the opposite hand. “Irrational means have yet taken you to a rational technique,” she muttered. “Fascinating. Perhaps this ‘instinct’ of which you speak bears further investigation.”

“Fightin’ a war ain’t rational lady,” Vaike informed her. “Just watch me in the next battle. Can’t show off what I got against something that can’t attack back.”

“Very well.” Miriel snapped her book open, took out a piece of charcoal from her robes, and jotted down something in one of the pages. “I shall do just that.”

If there was a morning to distract yourself with something or other, this was the morning. Let it be brushing up on one's skills or just taking up a light activity, Donnel was trying to do a little bit of both. While he would not deny that being one of the Shepherd's was quite the experience, he felt like there was more he could be doing. He was never that strong a fellow, but what if he wasn't meant to be that sort of soldier?

He had tried a couple of different things with the others. Archery, swordplay, he even asked Anali about her strategizing whats-its. This morning, Donnel got the idea to try looking into magic, like that stern-looking lady Miriel, or that kid Ricken. So while Miriel was out, Donnel took a peek at her scrolls (not stealing them, just borrowing). It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the problem? He could not read hide or tail of anything. That wasn’t to say he couldn’t read. He could read just fine. But for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if the words on the scroll were Ylissean or some foreign language that used the same characters. It was just straight-up gobblygook.

###### 

Chrom was fairly certain that Frederick had placed his winter cloak by the fire before he needed it. It was already toasty warm by the time Chrom put it on. it had to have Frederick’s fingerprints all over it. It might have snowed more after everyone went to sleep judging from the powdery layer of snow on everyone's tents. Winters were generally a respite from Plegia’s attacks, they were a desert people after all, so it was mildly amusing to see the Shepherds running around camp in cloaks.

He noticed Vaike and Miriel in front of a training dummy, deep in conversation. Or at least Chrom thought it was a conversation, Miriel was speaking, but Vaike looked utterly lost. A one-sided conversation, then.

And then, opposite the two, was Ruby who looked like she was using one of the dummies to practice close combat. She had a dagger with a colorful hilt in her hand and was holding it in a reverse grip as she pantomimed cutting the dummy’s throat.

A pang of guilt clenched at Chrom’s stomach as he realized he barely knew a thing about Ruby. True, the same could be said about Virion, but he had the inkling if he were to ask Virion about himself Chrom would need to clear out his schedule. Ruby, though, Ruby seemed like the kind of girl who would get straight to the point.

As he approached the thief he realized that her dagger wasn’t just colorful, it was encrusted with tiny green gems. “Don’t they fall out?” Chrom asked without thinking.

Ruby looked from Chrom, then down to her dagger, then back to Chrom. “I guess they might, depends on how well it’s made.”

He wanted to point out how impractical that sort of thing was. True, there were blades throughout history and legend that had a gem or two encrusted into it, but Ruby’s dagger was just excessive. “Is there something I can help you with?” asked Ruby.

“I just came to say hi,” Chrom explained. “I realize we haven’t spoken much, and I’d like to rectify that.”

“Oh…” her eyes traveled from left to right. She placed her dagger back in its sheath then crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk about what?”

“You. Where you’re from, how you found yourself with the Shepherds.” The thief simply eyed him once again. No doubt thinking him a spoiled prince seeking entertainment through his lesser. “I just seek a better understanding of the people, is all.” Chrom took a moment and pointed to his hair. “Can’t really blend in even if I try to go incognito.”

Ruby snorted; she placed a hand on her hip and rubbed the back of her neck. “Not a whole lot to me,” she said at length. “Can’t quite remember where I came from, just know I ended up one of the war orphans. I lived with my grandfather for a bit, then discovered I was particularly skilled at thieving after he died. Spent the rest of that time traveling here and there until I stumbled across Sully.”

“Were you alone long?”

“Not really. The harder part was trying to make an honest living. The war…”

Chrom tore his gaze off Ruby. Calhoun conscripted his people from every walk of life. Which included the farmers, which produced a food shortage, a shortage of wool and wheat. Woodcutters were too busy in the war to sell wood for the winter. People were out of work. And those who weren’t fighting nearly starve and froze to death.

It took years to get Ylisse’s economy stable again.

“Well, then,” Chrom said at length, his hands pressed together palm to palm. “I hope your time with the Shepherds help you find more honest work.”

Ruby grinned briefly. “I think it will.”

###### 

Donnel wasn't quite sure how long he had been sitting there in the mess tent, trying to make sense of the scroll, but his frustration was quickly reaching the point where he was about ready to tear the thing in half. "Donny, settle down," Stahl said, placing a teakettle and a couple of cups on the table. "I can practically see smoke rising from your head. Why don't you take a break and have a soothing cup of nettle tea? It's a little bitter, but it'll settle your nerves if you can keep it down."

"Thank ya kindly, Stahl," Donnel said as his senior poured him a cup of tea.

"Think nothing of it," he said while pouring himself a cup. Placing the kettle down, he took a sip. "Now, once you're calm, then we can start thinking about what kind of soldier you want to be."

Donnel almost choked on his tea when Stahl said this. "How'd ya know that's what I was doin'?" he asked. "I ain't said nothin' about it to ya."

"Back at the garrison, you were picking locks, then you were practicing archery," Stahl explained casually. "Now I find you attempting to decipher a scroll to 'smite thine enemies with fire.' Either you're incredibly bored, or you aren't satisfied with your current role."

"Welp," sighed Donnel. "I s'pose the cat's outta the bag now…" He thought for a moment before his brows rose in interest. "Hey, Stahl. Yer pretty clever. What do ya reckon I should do?"

Stahl thought for a moment, his cup warming his hands. "Well, I don't know anything about tomes or magic staves," he confessed. "But I'm a keen student of weapons, especially sharp ones. You could do what I did and watch the experienced sellswords and knights."

Donnel shot onto his feet with a broad smile on his face. "And then I could learn what weapon might work best for me!" he exclaimed after he slammed his hands onto the table. "Gosh, that's a dilly of an idea! And I've done got the perfect opportunity today!"

Immediately, the village boy put his winter cloak back on. He gathered the scroll into his arms while Stahl said to him, "Wait, Donny, it's not enough to just pick a weapon you like. You need training and-" But Donnel was already outside. "And he's gone…"

Staring straight ahead, Stahl took another drink from his bitter tea. Their newest recruit was quite the eager one. However, Stahl could not quite decide if that was a good or bad thing just yet.

###### 

Khan Flavia Alexandrov was already waiting by the arena come time for the tournament. She looked out over the playing field with her arms crossed over her chest by the time Chrom and the Ylisseans arrived. “Just a warning, Prince Chrom,” Flavia said without looking over her shoulder. “I hear an equally able swordsman champions the West-Khan.”

“Then he shall be defeated by Ylisse’s necessity,” Chrom replied unwaveringly.

“Well spoken.” She looked over her shoulder with a broad smile. “I look forward to seeing how you fare!”

On the ground floor, just outside the arena’s boundaries, Anali rallied up the units she wanted out in the area with her and Chrom. While the West-Khan had nine unites on their side, Anali picked a total of six for this battle. “Are you sure that’s wise?” Frederick asked her. “These are not bumbling bandits, they’re the best the West-Khan has to offer.”

“Do you doubt our army, Frederick?” countered Anali.

“Of course not! I’m the one who trained most of them…”

“Good! We’ll be fine, then.”

The rules for the tournament were simple; the East and West Khan’s chose their champions and they duked it out in the arena. The side whose champions were taken out either loses or forfeits power. There were ways units could be removed from the arena. Either they step over the arena boundaries or if they lose enough blood that they needed an immediate healer. Or, in the worst-case scenario, if they are killed. It happened, but in recent years the Khans tried to avoid death as much as possible. But if Anali had a say in it, anyone fighting for the East-Khan and Ylisse would not be taking any lives. Outside of herself and Chrom, Anali had chosen Frederick, Sully, Vaike, and Virion for this battle.

They stood, just outside of the arena waiting to get started while the rest of the Shepherds sat in the box closest to Flavia. Turns out they would have a perfect view of the tournament.

“I think we should be okay.” Anali moved one of her ponytails over her shoulder. “If the West-Khan’s men are anything like Flavia’s men yesterday, then I want Lissa to be ready when one of our men are taken out.”

The West-Khan’s champions stood on the opposite end of the arena as Regna Ferox’s citizens began to file in. The tournament was an annual, much anticipated, spectacle. “Chrom!” Lissa explained. She took her brother by his sleeved arm. “Look!”

“I see him,” Chrom said, somewhat darkly.

“Hm?” questioned Anali. She looked forward to find a familiar young man in blue with a butterfly mask shielding his eyes. “What?”

As far as Anali heard, there wasn’t much news on Marth and his whereabouts after the night the Risen first arrived. She wasn’t even sure if Chrom was actively looking into Marth’s activities. So what was he doing Regna Ferox?

“Marth!” Chrom called, projecting his voice.” One question before we begin?” Marth said nothing. His expression remained unreadable. “Fine, then,” Chrom muttered to himself before he spoke louder, “Our swords can speak for us!”

Walking onto the arena, Chrom removed Falchion from its sheath. Almost immediately after Marth took out his sword; a blade, identical to the Falchion. “What the hell?!” Sully exclaimed. Her rusty eyes were wide and her face palled. This would go down as the day Sully Rivers, the woman to end all men, was at an utter loss for words of any kind.

At her side, Vaike recoiled, his face suddenly pasty white. “It’s gotta be a fake… It’s gotta be…”

“What?” asked Anali. “What’s wrong?”

“The Falchion is one of Ylisse’s treasured heirlooms,” Frederick explained. He was calm compared to the others around him, but just as confused as them. “Used by the first Exalt to slay the Fell Dragon and is said to have been used by the Hero-King himself.” He turned his attention to Anali. “This sword is the only one in its existence, owned by the Ylissean royal line.”

###### 

Chrom never noticed Marth’s sword the night the Risen arrive, not when he was so focused on saving Lissa and the problem at hand. That night, Marth sheathed his blade as soon as the Risen were gone, so he never got a good look at it. And now, he could not stop staring at it.

Falchion was not an easy sword to replicate as it was forged from Naga’s fang, or so the legends say. They also said that the hilt of the blade had broken several times over the years and the blade reshaped itself whenever the hilt was reforged. It was possible it could have been the same blade used by the Saint-King Alm of Valentia, but it was said that sword was made from a lesser god’s fang.

“Where did you get that?” Chrom asked eyeing Marth. Still, the masked boy did not reply. “There’s no way…”

There’s no way it could have been anything more than a replica.

Darting forward, Chrom leaped into the air to build momentum. He balled himself up and began spinning at rapid speeds as he made his descent. Snapping back to his full height, Chrom's sword clashed with Marth's, as he landed safely, creating small sparks when Marth blocked the attack.

The two exchanged blows creating more sparks with each collide of the sword. Marth was certainly a skilled swordsman, who managed to work around his obvious disadvantage. It was easy for anyone to see that Marth did not have the strength Chrom had, the prince dwarfed him by a full head, and Marth clearly didn’t have the muscle Chrom did. Yet, Marth worked around this in a way that looked so effortless, 'looked' being the keyword.

"Tell me," Chrom said as Marth's blade pushed against his. "Who taught you to fight like that?"

In unison, they leaped back a few meters. Gathering their bearings, both swordsmen pushed forward, their Falchion's scraping against each other. Sliding to a stop, Marth leaped into the air, perfectly mimicking Chrom's earlier, gravity-defying spin attack.

"My father!" Marth shouted while he made his descent.

Chrom skillfully dodged Marth's attack before he could strike. The masked boy's sword struck the floor, he stood up, staring at the Shepherds. "Let us fight with honor," Marth declared at them. "May the best soldier win!"

###### 

“Hot damn,” Sully muttered under her breath. “Looks like Chrom may have found his equal.”

“Marth is a gifted swordsman, and his men look capable as well,” Anali agreed. She bit the pad of her thumb and rolled her eyes to the side before she shrugged. “Not that that particular observation is actually helpful. Perhaps it’s best we-”

She was cut off by Vaike and Sully’s battle cries as the two sprinted into the arena just as the West-Khan’s champions filed in. Resisting a sigh, Anali withdrew her sword and entered the fray. She noticed how balanced the West-Khan’s men were; two generals, two mages, two fighters, and three swordsmen.

Soon enough, a metallic clang-clang echoed across the arena, drowned out only by the cheering from the crowd. As the battles played out around him, Marth stood back near the arena boundary, his arms folded over his chest. One had to assume he was observing the battles, but it was near impossible to tell what he was thinking. Anali realized quickly that Marth may have very well taken a page out of Raimi’s book.

He was the real challenge.

Because there was an effort made to avoid deaths, Anali had given Virion the specific instruction to watch his comrade's backs. But to aim for their arms and shoulders, anything to avoid hitting their opponent's vital organs. Virion was truly gifted with a bow and arrow (and possibly tactics as well, but Anali chose to ignore that), and was far more clever than he chose to let on. It would have been child’s play for Virion to avoid making a kill shot. It was the two mages that Virion had to look out for.

Vaike was going head-to-head with one of the swordsmen. He was a tall fellow with shaggy black hair and clothes that looked like they came straight from Chron'sin. The Vaike so rarely gave others compliments, but this man was very, very skilled. It would not have surprised him if this man was second-in-command to that ‘Marth’ character, after all, it was difficult for Vaike to get a good hit. Loath as he was to admit it, Teach needed a little help.

And help came to him in the form of Anali, of all people. Vaike's thoughts and opinions on the woman were a secret to no one. He did not like Anali, he did not trust Anali. And here she was coming to his aid. He did not ask for help, she was just there.

There was a part of Anali that mentally berated herself. She still was not all that confident in her abilities with a sword. And this dark-haired man clearly had years of training under his belt. But Vaike was struggling, he needed help. The swordsman blocked Anali's attack with great expertise. There was a moment, when their swords met, that Anali noticed something about the man's eyes. Not his face, which remained straight and calm, but his eyes, his pupils shrank. What got that reaction?

Quickly, the swordsman drew his arm back and struck Anali's sword. The force prompted a flurry of sparks into the air, as a clang, clang was heard. Anali looked down at her blade. She paled instantly. There must have been a crack in it that she did not notice as her sword was broken in half. She had it on her since she first woke up, and now she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to weep for her loss, or cut her losses and run.

The battle cry Vaike released as he swung his ax into the swordsman's side was enough to startle both of them. The force of the blond's attack was enough to knock the West-Kahn's swordsman off his feet. His tunic had been cut open, and blood was beginning to seep out from the newly opened wound. The swordsman held up both hands, signaling his yield and out.

Vaike exhaled as the swordsman disappeared off the arena, and out of sight. Anali took a moment to study her ruined sword. When she thought about it, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. It was not the sturdiest of swords. It looked like she was sticking to tomes until she could get a new one.

She looked up at Vaike, half-expecting him to tell her that he could have handled it on his own, or to simply butt out. But instead, he gave her a very small smile. Seeing this, Anali could not help but smile herself and allowed herself to hope that things between them would begin to improve.

The West-Khan was down both fighters, a mage, a knight, and two swordsmen. Virion had taken the fighters out with a couple of arrows in the knees (something he would later say Anali inspired, much to her embarrassment). One of the Mages hardly stood a chance against Sully, there was a reason Anali chose her to fight in this tournament after all. The Knight was unfortunate enough to battle against Frederick, with his fellow soldier being the next one on the chopping block.

The West-Khan's second mage fell to the floor, his tome laid out in the open, forgotten. The man gripped his leg, which was bleeding profusely. His opposite arm had also been cut into. He looked up at Prince Chrom, the very man who struck him down, almost expecting him to finish the job. But, instead, Chrom turned to look straight at Marth, his sword freshly redrawn.

Marth, and by extension his father, were quite the swordsmen. It had been quite a while since someone really made Chrom have to put his all into it. "Who is your father?" he asked Marth.

"I've said enough for one day, sir," the masked man said curtly, he turned his head to the side, as though he were trying to avoid eye contact.

"Is that how it is?" Chrom asked in reply, almost thinking out loud. "Lissa owes you her life, and for that, you have my gratitude. But within these walls, I represent the East-Khan and the interests of Ylisse. I can't promise to stay my blade, but I vow not to shame you."

Marth scoffed. "Never expected such youthful arrogance," he admitted. "We shall see who shames who!"

And then he broke forward. There was not much difference between the two in skill and power than when the tournament first began. Marth was able to predict and counter Chrom's oncoming attacks, and vice versa. It made Chrom all the more curious about Marth's father. He certainly seemed like a man that was worth meeting.

But, now was not the time for such thoughts and desires. Right now he needed to find an opening and take out Marth. But Marth would just predict what Chrom had planned for him. At this rate, the only way either of them was going down was because they both collapsed from exhaustion.

Chrom spotted orange-yellow lights flickering in the corner of his eye. Volts of electricity struck Marth square in the chest. He stumbled back onto his knees, using his sword as a crutch while he breathed. Immediately, Chrom ran up to Marth and sliced an open wound into his bust. "Impressive…" Marth rasped, slowly, he got back onto his feet. His arms covered the wound. "If not surprising…"

Chrom looked over his shoulder, Anali was busy sliding her tome back into its sling. She had a rather cheeky smile. "Sorry, was he yours?" she asked.

"No, no," Chrom smiled, waving his free hand. "All yours."

The West-Khan's champions fell like flies after Marth yielded. Virion suffered a few burns on his hand from one of the mages. Frederick's armor had a dent in it; Anali pitied the man who did that. And Vaike had been nicked in the abdomen, Virion's hand had gotten the worst of it, not helped that he still fired arrows with the burn. Lissa was not afraid to smack him on the shoulder for that. She was able to heal him, his hand would be as good as new, given Virion did not use it for a few days.

###### 

The crowd was still abuzz when the tournament was over, some of them even whispered that they hoped the Ylissen’s would be fighting for Flavia next tournament. However, no one was as ecstatic as Flavia. By the time she approached Chrom, Lissa was looking over her brother and Anali.

"Well fought!" Flavia beamed as she slapped Anali on the back getting a muttered 'ow' out of her. "You have my respect. And, perhaps more to the point, you have your alliance. I will provide Ylisse with the soldiers she needs."

"Truly?" Chrom asked her, trying to keep his voice under control. The last thing he needed was to come off as an excited schoolboy. "Thank you, East-Khan."

"I should thank you!" Flavia corrected, she winked at Chrom before she stretched her arms above her head. "It feels like ages since I've held full power. Come, my new friends! Tonight, we celebrate!"

Flavia ran off towards the exit, she plowed into one of her soldiers, and wrapped her arm around their neck, dragging them with her. As they disappeared through the corridor, Flavia could be heard shouting about cracking open their finest mead. "Bah," scoffed a tall, muscular black man. "Any excuse for a party and Flavia jumps on it…"

Anali tried to repress a shudder as soon as she saw the eye patch over what would have been his left eye. The man looked like a seasoned warrior if the muscles, and armor did not imply such a thing already. Standing a few yards behind him was a young woman with her pink hair done in a high ponytail. "I'm sorry, have we met?" asked Chrom.

The man pointed to himself with his thumb. "I'm Basilio," he explained. "The West-Khan you so rudely removed from power!" Basilio cleared his throat; his demeanor changed instantly. "You're handy with a sword, boy. I thought for sure I'd picked the stronger man."

"What do you know about him?"

"You mean that 'Marth?' He's just some sellsword with delusions of grandeur," Basilio explained. "All I know is that he turned up one eve and knocked my old champion flat." He suddenly started beaming. "It was love at first sight, and I'm generally too old for such things!" he laughed. "Anyway, he's gone now. Up and fled the moment the tournament ended."

Anali's brow rose. Marth left without seeing a healer? Hopefully, that was a sign that her spell and Chrom's attack did not do much damage to his chest. But then again, he could have insisted he walk it off because stupid pride got in the way. "He's so dark and mysterious," Lissa sighed dreamily.

Anali couldn't help but grin. "Sounds like Marth's got at least one fan," she said, nudging Lissa with her elbow.

The blonde princess looked up at her. "Well, I mean, c'mon, he _is_ sort of dreamy, isn't he?"

"And _you're_ sort of dreaming!" Chrom chided.

"Yowch!" Lissa flinched in fake pain. "Lighten up, Big Brother. I was just kidding."

"One last thing, boy," Basilio spoke up. "Before you go, I have a little present for you."

At Basilio's side, a young man with dark hair stood. Anali immediately recognized him as the same man who fought against Vaike during the tournament. The same one who broke her sword "This is Lon'qu, my former champion," Basilio said, placing an arm around Lon'qu's shoulder. "Not much for talking, mind you, but he's peerless with a sword. As good as Marth, in my mind. To be honest, I can't figure out how Marth bested him so quickly."

"Marth beat him?!" Lissa gasped, a hand just touching her lips. "But he looks so big and strong…"

Lowering her hand, Lissa took two steps forward towards Lon'qu. Perhaps she intended on introducing herself and welcoming him. But instead, Lon'qu took a large step back, snapping, "Away, woman!"

Startled, Lissa's pigtails almost stood up on end. "Wh-What did I say?!" she gasped.

Basilio threw his head back, laughing. "Let's just say that ladies tend to put Lon'qu on edge," he explained. "Nonetheless, he is capable. Perhaps he even has the making of a Khan. Consider him West Ferox's contribution to the Ylissean cause."

Chrom arched a brow. "You're certain about this?"

"Yes, yes," Basilio said waving a hand. "He's your man now."

"And Lon'qu?" Chrom asked the dark-haired man. "You have no objections?"

"He gives orders. I stab people," Lon'qu said bluntly. "I think our roles are clear."

Chrom looked over his shoulder at Anali. She shrugged in response. What was he looking at her for? He was the one in charge, Anali just created strategies and tried to keep everyone's arses safe. "All right then," Chrom nodded. He held his hand out to Lon'qu. "Welcome aboard."

###### 

Flavia, feeling particularly generous according to the messenger, had given the Shepherds a keg of ale, some of their best meat, vegetables, fresh bread, figs, and chocolate for their army to have their own celebration. They opened the keg and had themselves a fine feast that night.

The ale tasted a bit fruity with a hint of spice in it. Anali may have made the mistake of draining her tankard based on the taste alone. She quickly began to feel a haze in her head and a flush of heat in her face. Suddenly Anali had a distinct feeling that she did not know how to drink. She was not quite sure what state she was currently in, what counted as ‘being drunk?’

She sat with Stahl, Sully, Donnel, Vaike, and Ruby. Sully’s face was redder than Anali’s, and unsurprisingly, she was on her third tankard of ale. “I think you’ve had enough,” Ruby said, reaching out for the red-heads tankard. Her flush was evident against her porcelain cheeks.

Like a child, Sully crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

Anali reached out and popped a small chocolate ball into her mouth. As delectable as it was, it caused her tongue to stick to the roof of her mouth. She half-turned in her seat, initially to see if there were any water pitchers, and saw Lon’qu walking out of the mess tent as he unsheathed his sword. “What’d you guys make of that Lon’qu?” Anali asked, somewhat slurred.

“Him?” Vaike asked, gesturing to the flapping door. “Typical lone wolf swordsman. Like the world doesn’t gotta enough of those.”

“He doesn’t seem to like women very much,” said Kellam. Anali nearly leaped out of her seat when she realizes he was sitting right next to her. “Not like hates them, but he’s afraid of them.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Stahl said before he bit into a fig. “Not completely, anyway. There’s a bit more to it.”

Anali bit her lower lip in thought, so she wasn’t just seeing things in the area. Lon’qu did show a hint of fear when she intervened. His little gynophobia could prove to be a problem when it came to working with the females amongst the Shepherds. They couldn’t just keep Lon’qu away from the women, that just wasn’t realistic. But maybe they could just help him take his mind off the fact that’s working with a woman.

It was likely the alcohol talking, but Anali had an idea.

Anali started to stuff her pockets with figs despite the murmurs of protests. Those were abruptly silenced when Sully finally conked out. Once out of the mess tent, Anali went straight to the armory tent and got out a training sword. Not to replace her broken one, she would have to see the blacksmith when they got back to Ylisse, but just perfect for her task.

She found Lon’qu right where she expected to find him, in front of one of the practice dummies, working on a couple of moves. “Hey!” Anali called, half-jogging into the training field. “You know, I find it better to train with a living person. But, you know what? You got a volunteer! You’ll go easy on me, won’t you?”

Anali withdrew the training sword; the weight of the figs in her pockets made lifting her arms feel awkward. “Hmph,” grumbled Lon’qu.

Her brow arched and her lips puckered. “Was that a yes or a no?” she asked. “Doesn’t matter, let’s get on with it!”

She broke forward, swinging the sword at the side. Lon’qu dodged effortlessly, hardly flinching or blinking. One of her pockets knocked her off balance; Anali nearly fell into the snow as a result. “Hehe!” she giggled as she stood herself upright. “You’re as good as they say!”

“Thank you,” Lon’qu exhaled.

“But,” Anali asked crossing her arms, “not even bothering to raise your sword? That’s a bit condescending, don’t you think?”

“Swordplay is a man’s pursuit,” said Lon’qu. He turned his back to Anali, keeping a hand hovering over his sword handle. “What does a woman know of -”

_Pow!_

“WHA-?!” Lon’qu whipped around, his hand pressed against the back of his head. Anali stood smiling innocently as she rocked back and forth on her heels. “What in blazes are you doing, woman?!” Lon’qu demanded. He glanced down, spotting the object that hit him in the snow. “Why are you… throwing… figs?”

"If you can't get close to a foe, you must engage him at long range," Anali said matter-of-factly, she put her sword hand onto her hip. "Basic tactics, really, I'm surprised you'd be unfamiliar with them."

"Well, no matter," Lon'qu said, brushing snowflakes and fig guts off his shoulder. "It’s not as if you'll ever hit me with one-"

"Ooooh! That sounds like a challenge!" Anali beamed. "All right, twinkle toes. Dodge this!"

She grabbed another fig from the bowl and hurled it at Lon'qu. Followed by another, and another, and another. "S-stop it!" he shouted, shielding himself with his arms.

"We have to… get close," Anali said in between throws. "To… train properly!"

With each step back Lon'qu took, Anali followed, with another fig. This couldn't keep up, Lon'qu told himself, she had to run out eventually. But after getting whopped in the head one too many times, he had enough. He was a well-respected myrmidon! "I won't stand here to be pelted with fruit by a madwoman!" Lon'qu snapped at her. "I'm leaving!"

"Coward!" Anali shouted at his retreating figure. She grabbed another fig. "You get back here!"

She broke off into a run, chasing after Lon'qu; still throwing figs at him. Eventually, he started running across the camp, shouting obscenities at Anali, and calling her a madwoman more than once. They passed Frederick's tent, just as the man in question stepped out. His armor had long since been removed, and odds were, he was about to remind the Shepherds not to get carried away with the drinking, and that it was almost time for lights out.

He watched the scene play out in confusion, their newest recruit running through the camp, and their tactician chasing after him with a bowl of figs. "Anali," Frederick called after the pair ran by him a second time. "What, in Naga's name, are you doing?"

"Testing a theory!" shouted Anali.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold, one of the rare instances weapon breaking that will likely happen in this fic…
> 
> Also included some minor foreshadowing about the existence of Walhart and Cherche.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight  
Return**

The rain came down thick and cold. Flashes of lightning illuminated the field, revealing Feroxi soldiers fighting a losing battle against an unknown army of black mass and shapes. “Fall back and form up!” shouted Khan Basilio. “Don’t let them scatter us!”

The soldiers obey, running to the opposite side of the field. Basilio’s order, however, did not stop them from taking out any opposing stragglers they happened upon. Ever the warriors. “Sir, we have trouble,” one of the west-Khan’s scouts shouted, approaching his commander. “Their cavalry is riding right over us!”

“So we hold our ground!” Basilio barked at him. “We show them how a real Feroxi warrior fights!”

Anguished cries rivaled the sound of thunder. Blood mixed with the rain and painted the ground red. The Khan’s men hardly had the chance to react before they were met with a swift and brutal end. “Sir” one of Basilio’s men shouted. He staggered up to his commander, a hand pressed firmly over the crook of his neck where it was bleeding. “We’re dropping like cattle out there, we need to cut our losses!”

“Soldier, you’ll find that ‘surrender’ is nowhere in my vocabulary!” Basilio barked back, then he pointed back to the battlefield. “Now we fight his army until one man is standing if we have to!”

“Sir we’re not fighting an army!”

No sooner had Basilio’s man spoke, another flash of lightning illuminated the battlefield. “Aw crap,” Basilio muttered under his breath.

Both the rider and the horse he rode upon were larger than life. The horse was decked out in grey and red barding with a dangerous look in its eye. Its rider was a behemoth of a man in vibrant red armor. His armor gave off the impression that he was barrel-chested and the helm he wore gave off the impression of two demonic horns. In one hand he carried a massive, red, and black axe that looked like it needed two hands to attack it with.

Gripping his axe tight in his hands, Basilio charged straight at the behemoth. And Basilio was not given the chance to attack. Swiftly the behemoth lifted his axe, taking it in two hands. He raised it and brought it down upon Basilio. The East-Khan flew back, blood seeping out of the fresh wound traveling from his right shoulder to the left of his torso.

“Impressive,” said the behemoth. “Not many can withstand a single attack. But all have met with the same fate.”

“It’s a… a fate we both… share,” Basilio choked out. Bowing his head, he started to cough violently. When he looked back up at the behemoth, there was blood around his mouth. “Believe me… I look forward to our… our rematch in hell…”

The behemoth listed his head ever so slightly. Then brought his axe back up again. “I’m afraid you’ll have quite some time to wait then.”

He brought his axe down, his blade connected with Basilio’s neck. His body fell like a rag doll and his head flew several meters into the field.

###### 

She awoke with a flinch, her breath caught in her throat. Sitting up in her cot, Anali ignored the cool air that met her face. Sumia, Sully, Miriel, and Ruby were still asleep, leaving Anali essentially alone. Fighting back tears, she pushed her bangs back out of her eyes. She brought her knees close to her chest, then rested her forehead against them.

 _‘It was just a dream,’_ she told herself. _‘Just a dream.’_

But there was a split second when Anali could have sworn that it was real. Even if the notion was rather ludicrous. Regna Ferox wasn’t exactly at war with anyone just yet. And there was no way Khan Basilio would ever be brought down in two attacks.

Bringing her knees in closer, Anali muttered over and over that it was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

She was completely unaware of the red-haired young woman beside her who was wide awake and listening in.

###### 

“So, what do you say?” Sumia said, brushing her hands through Rosella’s mane. “Ride back to Ylisstol with us?”

Anali stared dumbly at Rosella. While it was true that the mare had settled down immensely since Sumia took care of her wing, Anali was not ready to start flying. Especially since pegasi were so closely related to horses. What happened when a pegasus was spooked… in mid-flight. “Let’s not get carried away,” Anali said with a weak smile.

“Oh, come on,” her friend argued. “You’ll love it, cross my heart and-”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Okay,” Sumia relented. She pulled herself upon Rosella’s saddle. “But don’t think I’m going to let this drop.”

For some reason, Anali felt the overwhelming urge to run and hide.

By the end of the day, they were finally out of Regna Ferox and out of the snowy weather. However, they came across a small pack of five Risen a few miles out of Ferox. Anali had Sumia circle the area on Rosella and draw out any more hiding in the shadows. Then she had Stahl, Sully, and Frederick corner them against the Galadriel river. Anali was quick to note that Risen floated in the water, but they couldn’t very well swim. The Risen were not difficult to deal with, but they threw them off schedule and so Chrom announced that they would set up camp early.

After camp was set up, everyone was out doing their business. Vaike and Lon’qu may have become instant best friends through training together. Sully would have been included had Lon’qu not stayed as far away from her as possible. And Donnel was on kitchen duty that night, and the first thing he did was set up a few quick and easy traps and snares.

Sumia scurried around the campsite, searching for Chrom. Anali had come to her asking for help, as she couldn't find him. The two of them were supposed to be having a brief meeting to discuss a safe return route. After all, it wasn't just Risen they had to worry about.

But they both worked too hard.

Ever since the Farfort, Anali spent most of her free time reading up on tactics, and working on the little game she played with Virion before testing new tactics out on the Shepherds themselves. And then she would work on more. There were books stacked beside her bed back at the garrison. And it would not have surprised Sumia in the least if it turned out there were bits of paper in Anali's coat pockets with notes written on every one of them.

And then there was Chrom. As Ylisse's prince, he had his duties both on and off the battlefield. Odds were, as soon as they returned to Ylisstol he would have another council meeting to inform them of the alliance and discuss their next move. Even then, he was charged with keeping the people safe from bandits, and now the Risen, as well as being the captain of an entire militia.

Well, despite her mother hen tendencies, this was important. Bandits could be just as frightening as Risen after all. So, she was going to help Anali find Chrom. If he wasn't in his tent, then there were two likely places Sumia could think to find him. And since he wasn't on the training field…

She poked her head into the weapons tent; just as she predicted the captain was there. "Found you!" Sumia beamed as she walked into the tent.

Chrom looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly at the sight of the Pegasus Knight. "Sumia," he said with a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Did you need something?"

"Um, no, not really," Sumia said, instinctually slipping a lock of hair behind her ear. "Anali was just looking for you."

"Oh, right, the strategy meeting!" Chrom brought a hand to his forehead. He mentally cursed himself. Bringing his hand down, Chrom chuckled to himself as he walked up towards the exit. "Anali sure does love to-"

Sumia nearly leaped out of her skin. Chrom tumbled forward, catching himself on the rack of axes, at most he just landed on his knees. "Are you all right?!" Sumia gasped, dropping to her knees to assist him.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Chrom said, waving his hand lazily. Gathering his barring, he stood back onto his feet. "I just tripped on a pebble. Gods, this is embarrassing."

"It's because you're so exhausted!" Sumia chided as she stood back up. "You've been working too hard lately."

"I'm fine, Sumia," Chrom insisted. "And besides, we're all tired. Traveling for three days does that to people."

Shaking her head, Sumia crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't need to don a brave face for my sake," she said. "You carry twice the burden of anyone. It's only natural you're exhausted."

"You're kind to say so. But in truth, everyone looks to their commander for inspiration and strength. An army is only as stalwart as its leader. The instant I show weakness, we're through."

"It must be hard for you," murmured Sumia.

Avoiding Sumia's gaze, Chrom rubbed the back of his neck. This was not the sort of thing he wanted to say in front of one of his subordinates, or his friends. But here it was, all on the table. "I'll… be fine," Chrom reassured her. "And please, don't speak of this conversation to anyone. All right?"

"N-No!" Sumia blurted out, her face turning red. "O-Of course not! I would never-"

She was cut off by the sound of Chrom's laughter. "At ease, Sumia," he said. "And stop worrying so much. It'll take more than a few hard battles to bring this soldier to his knees."

"I know," the ash-haired woman replied with a bob of the head. "You're the greatest warrior I've ever… Hm… I just realized something."

"What is it?"

"You trusted me with a secret!" Sumia said beaming. She almost bounced in place as she spoke. "It's our first secret together!"

"Um… yes, I suppose it is," Chrom said, a little confused. It wasn't that huge a deal. Chrom shared secrets between other subordinates. Not all of them were his, but they were still secrets. Sumia was acting as he had just given her all the suns she would ever need for the rest of her life.

Whatever made her happy?

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed," Sumia said, placing a finger to her lips. "So long as you promise to take a nap at least."

The prince's brow arched. "What?"

"I'll just tell Anali that your meeting's been delayed."

"And if I don't agree to your terms?"

"Then I'll tell everyone the mighty Chrom was bested by a mere pebble!"

"That sounds like blackmail," Chrom said with a lopsided grin. "I suppose there's no harm in putting it off a couple of hours."

"It's so thrilling to be able to help out like this," Sumia said as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear again. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sleep tight!"

The clumsy Pegasus Knight gave him one last wave goodbye before she slipped back outside. Shaking his head, Chrom couldn't help but chuckle. It was wonderful to hear that one of his men-at-arms was able to find some levity in light of recent events.

As promised, Sumia informed Anali that Chrom was delayed for a few hours, that he was busy with Frederick. Although Anali nodded in understanding, Sumia got the feeling that Anali had an inkling why their meeting was delayed. But she didn't say anything, just that she would be in their tent, reading one of the books Sumia lent her.

Dinner that night consisted of squirrel and rabbit meat, and a few potatoes, carrots, and radishes. Anali found herself seated at the table with most of the Shepherds. Though Lon’qu opted to stay as far away from her as possible. It wasn’t even the fact that she was a woman, he sat beside Stahl, sandwiched between Miriel. He singled her out in particular.

Anali must have made a pretty good first impression with the great fig chase last night. It only ended because Anali ran out of figs. Well, that and she was scolded by Frederick.

Regardless of Lon’qu, Anali loved moments like this. She loved the camaraderie amongst the Shepherds. She loved sitting amongst her friends at the dining table, listening to and sharing stories. It was moments like these that made her feel like she could trust these people on the battlefield.

After dinner, she decided to wash up before she readied herself for bed. Anali hadn’t seen or heard from Chrom since Sumia told her that their meeting was to be postponed, or even during dinner. So she assumed they would discuss it briefly in the morning.

So, Anali filled up the tub with hot water, chose one of the three offered soaps, and stripped herself of her clothes. The water was more than welcomed after two days of sleeping in the frigid Ferox. The snow had chilled her right to her very bones and she was slowly warming up since they left. A nice hot bath was just what Anali needed.

###### 

Chrom had been looking all over the campsite for Anali. She disappeared after dinner and no one had seen her since. It was Lissa who pointed out a tent she thought Anali might have gone into. So, with his papers in hand, Chrom stood outside the tent. “Hey, Anali?” called Chrom. No answer. “Anali, are you in here? I have a question about our next move tomorrow.”

“Chrom?” he heard Anali reply. She sounded like she could have been on the other side of the tent. She said something he couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that?” Chrom asked, pushing the flap to the side so he could enter.

The first thing he noticed was how humid it was inside, even for a cool spring night. And then there was the steam that filled the entire tent. “Gods, why is it so steamy in here?” he murmured.

A scream came from the opposite end of the tent. “Ah, there you are,” Chrom said with a slight smile. “I could hardly see anything through this blasted steam… Anyway, I wanted to consult with you on tomorrow’s march. You see…” Chrom’s voice trailed off as he stared at Anali.

She stood, stone-still, and red eyes widened as she looked at him in utter horror. Her hair, which she always kept up in pigtails, was currently out of its usual up-do. If there was one thing peculiar about the scene, aside from Anali’s horrified expression, was that she was completely naked. She had her arms crossed over her chest, the water around her waist churned from sinking in. Her shoulders were hunched as if she were trying to make herself shrink. “Er…” Chrom’s voice trailed off. “Is there any special reason why you aren’t wearing any clothing?”

That one statement seemed to snap Anali out of her stupor. “Chrom…” her voice low in a way he had never heard. Her face beginning to turn red. “Instead of just standing there like some slack-jawed village idiot, YOU COULD WAIT OUTSIDE LIKE I ASKED!”

Chrom stood for a moment, finally, finally registering the fact that Anali was crouched waist-deep in a wooden tub of water.

Oh…

Oh, shit.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry!” Chrom blurted out. He turned and used one hand to shield his eyes. Was there a hole somewhere he could go bury himself in? Maybe it would have been swifter to just fill his pockets with rocks and lay in the river. “I-I didn’t mean to- That is to say-”

“GET OUT!” screamed Anali.

“R-Right! Absolutely! Straight away! I-I’ll, er… be waiting for you.”

Chrom felt like he could have melted a block of ice with just the blush on his face alone. Good gods, how could he be so stupid? Was the steam really not a give away? What Anali must have thought of him now…

###### 

Anali put little effort into drying herself, her skin was still damp and her hair was still dripping wet. She did not bother to put on her bands to cover the mark on her hand, her coat, or even her boots. No, Anali just put on her smallclothes, tunic, and slacks and stomped right up to Chrom’s tent. “All right, you!” she seethed. “What sort of idiot blunders straight into the women’s bathing tent?!’

The blue-haired prince still carried a notable trace of scarlet upon his cheeks and a pleading look in his eye. “I’m sorry!” he apologized quickly, hesitant to look her straight in the eye. “Very, very sorry! I didn’t realize where we were, I swear it. I had no intention of peeping!”

The strange thing was how quickly Anali found her anger dissipate into simple annoyance. This prince was surprisingly dense, but he was also sincere. With big pleading eyes Chrom looked more like a little boy afraid of being scolded, than a warrior prince leading the country’s military. It just reminded Anali how easily she forgot that he was the scion of the Ylissean royal line. He wasn't some dashing prince in Sumia's books, he was just Chrom.

And just Chrom could be a huge dolt at times. This blunder was a prime example.

"Just… fine. Apology accepted," Anali said, trying not to sound too irritated. Just because he was forgiven did not mean she had to like the situation. "Now what was so damned important?"

"Oh, er," Chrom placed the sheets down on the small table by his lantern. "I was just hoping you could offer some advice on tomorrow's route?"

"The meeting, right. What are our options?"

"Well, according to this map," Chrom said, flattening the map out further. He started to trace a couple of routes out. "One route is this steep trail through the hills. Or we could circle the hills and follow the main road. I imagine either would work but I wanted to see if you had a preference."

Chrom was right, either route would work, however, circling around the hills would have taken less time. And going through them would have meant more work. "I'd say we take the path through the hills," Anali said, tracing out the path on the map. "Yes, the main road would be easier, but we'd be more exposed if we encountered foes."

"Right," Chrom rolled the map back up. "That's what I was thinking. Thank you for the advice. And, er…"

His face began to turn red again. Slowly, Chrom started to walk back towards the door. "That's uh… that's it, I guess," he said, using his free hand to talk with him until he gave Anali a small, awkward wave. "Bye."

"Bye," Anali said with a small, amused smile. Did Chrom forget that this was his tent and that Anali should be the one leaving?

"And Anali?" Chrom asked, coming to an abrupt halt just before the door. He definitely forgot that this was his tent. "I'm really sorry about the bath thing. I honestly didn't mean to catch you like that."

"It's fine," Anali said, trying to be firm, but sweet. She held a hand up for further emphasis. "Let's forget about it and move on."

"Er, right," Chrom said, his face still red. "Good idea. I'll catch you later?" His pupils shrunk when he realized his poor choice of words. "Argh, no! I mean, I'll see you later!"

No, no! That was a bad choice, too!

Anali tried to suppress her smile. Chrom's discomfort was so funny, it was kind of cute. He really had no idea how to talk to women, did he? Or at least, Chrom did not know how to let bygones be bygone. Anali wasn't angry at him anymore, she understood that Chrom did not walk in on her on purpose. He was no Prince Charming, but it was not in his character to do something like that intentionally.

With this in mind, Anali really should not say what she was about to. But she simply could not resist. "Are you still having trouble seeing me as a lady, now?" she asked.

That was enough to finally send Chrom out of the tent with an uncharacteristic, high-pitched whine. Anali realized she probably shouldn't have said that and would apologize for that the minute she saw him again. When she did in the morning, Chrom simply said they should call it even, his face was still red.

After another two days of travel, they finally returned to Ylisstol. Emmeryn greeted her brother and sister with a warm embrace for each and an added gesture of affection for Lissa. Chrom, Frederick, and Lissa would spend the next hour or so recounting the events at the borders, the tournament, and, most importantly, the alliance made between Ylisse and Regna Ferox.

Lon'qu was shown around the garrison by Vaike, who was 'volunteered' by Lissa. Neither one seemed to mind, but Lon'qu looked like he was more interested in the training yard. When Anali returned to her room, she found that Elaine was not there, probably going about her daily duties. She could not help but sigh, she was able to unpack  
without the young Cleric begging to know what happened.

Anali placed her books back in their usual place by her bunk, her tactical notes were placed under her bed with her ocarina. She smiled slightly at the sight of the instrument and played a few random notes before she placed it back. With her dirty clothes set aside with the rest of the laundry she needed to do, Anali deemed herself more or less done. Seated on her bed, Anali unsheathed her broken sword. She was going to need a new one, sooner rather than later.

She should still have enough time to go to the blacksmith if she left now. So, Anali left a brief note for Sumia, who was currently in the stable with Rosella, helping her settle into her new home, and Ruby and Elaine. It was simple and straightforward, Anali was going out, and she hoped to be back before dark.

The blacksmith, a man called Benny, was a bit intimidating at first. Tall and muscular, with a bushy, graying beard, and scars covering his hands. But he enjoyed a good joke with a drink as much as the next man. He was more than willing to forge Anali a new, sturdier, sword. They went over the design and payment. The mental picture Benny painted for her made Anali excited to see the finished product.

Benny wouldn't have her sword done for another three and a-half weeks, as he had another project ahead of hers. So Anali was stuck with a training sword until then. Things remained the same, Anali trained with Stahl, Kellam, Donnel and now Vaike, she had a few rematches with Virion in the library, and she even started to work on her riding with Sumia.

Anali quickly returned her game board and pieces to her room after another lost match against Virion. He left to philander with Miriel, who had asked him to fetch her notes back in her room. When Anali set foot into her room, she was met with Sumia, who nearly shoved a leather bag into her face, and beamed, "Ta-da!"

Anali's heart had nearly jumped out of her chest, but still, she took the bag from Sumia, to study it. It was beautifully made, sturdy, and looked like it must have cost a small fortune. "What's this?" she asked Sumia.

"It's for Chrom," Sumia replied; she nearly bounced in place as she spoke.

For Chrom? Anali could hardly see him keeping this on him during a march. She worried that it would collect dust in his room, not out of malicious intent, but because he already had a few bags to carry his belongings, and this was too nice to take on a march.

"Oh," Anali said as she handed the bag back to Sumia. "What's the occasion?"

"His birthday, of course!"

"What?" Anali asked dumbly.

"What?" her friend repeated. "No one told you?" She placed the bag on her bed. "You still have until the twenty-seventh. See, on the royal's birthday, a ball is held for them. And Chrom always invites the Shepherds. Oh! We could fix up the dress you bought! See, I told you it was good to know you have it!"

"Y-yeah, I guess," Anali said, tying her pouch of money onto her belt. "But can it wait 'till tomorrow? I need to go to market." She brisked past Sumia with a hastily added, "Won't be long."

In the market place, Anali marched with her thoughts running a mile a minute. On the twenty-seventh; Anali had twenty days to find a gift for Chrom, and prepare her dress. The damn thing was far too simple for a royal ball. But what could she give him that he did not already have?

Anali's breath caught in her throat as she felt something bump into her. "Billie, watch where you're going," a woman said, scolding her daughter. She flashed Anali a weak smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"It's fine," Anali smiled back.

The woman lead Billie away by her hand. "Mama," said Billie. "Can we get a few honey buns before we go home?"

"We'll see," her mother replied.

Anali watched the mother and daughter, biting her lip as she felt a pang in her chest. The twenty-seventh also meant that it would have been a little over two months since she first met Chrom, having been found on the twentieth of March. And Anali still had no idea what happened before, or what happened to her family.

Everyone had a family, didn't they? So, someone had to be missing her. Anali had to belong somewhere.

She remembered, much to her embarrassment, the little game she played with the others last night after dinner. With an empty mead bottle (courtesy of Khan Flavia) someone would spin it around the table, and whoever the nose pointed to had to reveal something personal. An embarrassing secret, their dream, anything. Though, what you had to tell depending on who spun the bottle, who was the last person that revealed their secret.

The game had attracted a bit of attention, which included Lissa and Miriel. When the bottle landed on Anali, Stahl had asked what Anali's dream was. She immediately answered, "To be a great tactician."

"Ah, what?" Sully asked her in disbelief. She pointed a finger at her, and said, "Try again, but this time tell us something you haven't accomplished."

Anali's face turned red, although, she wasn't quite sure if it was because she had to reveal something else, or because Sully already considered her a great tactician. Anali refused to meet with anyone's glance as she fiddled with her fingers under the table. "To…" her voice trailed off, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. "To get married… and have children…"

Sully gave her a smile that clearly said, ‘now that's more like it,’ while Sumia brought her hands together in front of her mouth, smiling. Lissa had let out a dreamy, 'Ahh!' It almost turned ugly when Vaike said with a laugh, "Man, you're such a girl!"

"Hey!" Lissa and Sully shouted back.

Anali wasn't quite sure why it embarrassed her so much, what was wrong with the idea of marriage? If her reaction to Vaike's jape meant anything, even Sully must have thought about it once or twice. However, Anali had no way of knowing if it was something she wanted before she lost her memory or not. When she thought about it today, Anali reasoned that she wanted a husband and children one day because she could not remember her own mother and father, or even if she had siblings.

Still, it would have been nice to have a ‘happily ever after,’ with little ones running around and keeping her busy. But then it all went back to what Anali told Sumia that day two months ago. Anali had no memory of herself before meeting the Exalts brother and sister. What man would want to marry a woman with no past? What future could a woman with no past actually have?

"How much farther is Benny's?" Anali asked herself under her breath. "I'm starting to depress myself."

Thankfully, the blacksmith’s shop was not that much farther. Benny seemed all too proud of his own work. Her new sword had a bit of a rapier feel to it. A sturdy blade with a white-colored hilt. The guard circled between where the blade ended, and the hilt began. Four small, metal rods in an X formation kept the guard in place. On the guard were two blue stones, the stones were lined with purple metal. "It's gorgeous!" Anali said, giving it a swish through the air. It seemed like a shame to use it in battle.

"Isn't it?" Benny boastfully asked. "And, it will last, unlike that flimsy piece of garbage you had. Sikanda will serve you well."

“Sikanda?” Anali repeated.

“A good sword needs a good name. I hear in Plegia ‘sikanda’ means something along the line of ‘defender.’”

Anali grinned a lopsided grin. Sikanda it was. She happily paid Benny all the sun's he wanted for such a beautiful sword.

Ten days passed, and Anali still could not think of a gift for Chrom. Chrom hardly seemed like the person who needed a gift from everyone but… It seemed wrong for Anali personally not to give him something. He had given her so much, a form of purpose, a place to call home; she hated that she couldn't hope to repay him.

In the mess hall, Anali had her notes in front of her, with a few things written and crossed out on the sheet. Anali really wanted to hit herself for even thinking of giving Chrom a sword. Yes, he clearly needed a new sword when he owned Ylisse's most treasured sword!

“Ah!” she groaned.

Holding her head in her hands, Anali hardly noticed Stahl walk by with a small loaf of bread in his hands. "Heya, Anali," he greeted, which nearly caused her to jump. He looked over her shoulder and studied the sheet in front of her. "You thinking up a birthday present for old man Chrom?"

"I'd hardly call twenty 'old,' Stahl," Anali replied, lowering her hands as she spoke. Wasn't Stahl a year older than Chrom? "But, yes, and I'm at a loss of ideas. Buying for anyone would have been hard enough, but I'd be buying for royalty. Do I go for expensive? I'm sure all the high class would have taken care of that, and I'm sure Chrom wouldn't accept if I presented him with something so stupidly expensive."

"Yeah, cheap is good," Stahl took a seat beside Anali and tore off a bit of his bread. "I was actually thinking of brewing up a special concoction for him."

Anali's brow perked when she heard this. She had almost forgotten that Stahl dabbled in a bit of apothecary. The salve he had given her had really helped her hands on more than one occasion. "Homemade gifts are always the best," Anali said with a slight smile. "Now if only I possessed such a talent."

"Actually," Stahl bit off another bite. "The ingredients are quite costly, so…"

Her brow perked up again. Was Stahl suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? "Perhaps… I could pitch in?" she suggested.

"Yes, exactly!" Stahl said, with a snap of the fingers and a wink. "Then the present could be from both of us."

"Okay!" Anali said with a small smile. It was not quite what she had in mind, but a concoction could be much more useful than the other silly ideas she came up with.

###### 

As the twenty-seventh drew ever closer, Sumia had helped Anali spruce up the plain, drab dress the Pegasus Knight convinced her to buy. Anali knew little about fashion designing and was next to useless as Sumia used another, equally, plain dress, cut up various pieces of the two, and combined them into one.

Sumia did not stop there, however, she added to the collar, added to the dress. She told Anali there was something she wanted to try, but did not have the time for it.

The day of the twenty-seventh came as any other. By this point, Anali knew that the royal’s birthdays were quite the festivities in Ylisstol, more Chrom and Lissa’s than Emmeryn’s due to the Exalt being born towards the end of the year when winter was in full swing. For the younger two, the entire city was open to everyone, traveling merchants took advantage of the situation, the castle cooks prepared food and drinks, and music was played in the heart of Ylisstol. Things were often downgraded for Emmeryn to accommodate for the season. The festivities were held in the palace, though it was open to the public.

Come mid-day, the Shepherds would be preparing for the festivities, set to begin before sunset. It was not until Chrom paid a visit to the garrison that Anali and Stahl gave Chrom the concoction they whipped up for him for muscle pain. They both pooled their sources for the ingredients, as planned, and Stahl even instructed Anali on how she could help when it came time to make the thing.

Sumia may have been a tad overeager when she gave Chrom the leather bag. There was a spring in her step, which ended up making it all too easy for her to trip over her own feet. Anali did dive to catch her but was too little too late and Sumia ended up on the floor. Chrom looked like he was about to offer her a hand when Sumia suddenly hopped onto her feet and nearly shoved the bag into his face.

She met up with Anali and Sully in the back of the room shortly after, fanning her flushed face with her hands. “Are you alright?” asked Anali.

“Yeah,” Sumia said breathily. “It’s just dawning on me that the day isn’t over yet, and we have a ball tonight.”

Sully grimaced, though Anali couldn’t tell if it was from the prospect of the ball in general, or if she sympathized with Sumia’s plight. Since it was Sully, Anali could believe it either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot to say about this one. Next time though.


End file.
